


Zenith

by jarethsdragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Explicit Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, NSFW, Pregnancy, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Triggers, a/b/o dynamics, heat - Freeform, not safe for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarethsdragon/pseuds/jarethsdragon
Summary: Everyone knows about heat and ruts, but what do you do when your heat sets off...another omega?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PoisnousPixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisnousPixie/gifts), [afan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afan/gifts), [ZanyFantasist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZanyFantasist/gifts).



> NSFW - Explicit
> 
> This is a bit of a inspiration from reading Apex Family. What if there was something at the other end of the spectrum? If an apex alpha is at the top—is a zenith omega at the bottom. What if you were that omega—a zenith who could push even another omega into a heat?
> 
> This is also dedicated to PoisnousPixie and ZanyFantasist (the mysterious AFan) who suggested looking at this from Jesse and Hanzo’s point of view and offer more details. So, I got started and, suddenly, it became its own story. Lots of fluffy stuff, and it’s porn with a moderate plot, but it is still the Hanzo, the Jesse and the rest that we know and love.

“Now, Hanny-bee,” Jesse said softly. “Stop pacin’ ‘n’ settle down.” He patted the leather couch beside him. “Sit down. Tell me about it.”

Hanzo’s dark eyes flashed. “I do not see how you are so calm about it.” He took a deep breath, puffing out. “Not with that scent in the air!”

Jesse stood up and walked over to the other man. He hadn’t seen the archer this upset since he had joined Overwatch. Then he had been anxious and bristled bitterly at everyone—especially his brother. Jesse had been ignorant of their past, content to let them settle in as they saw fit. Every member of Overwatch had skeletons in their closets—and the cowboy was fine to let the Japanese men settle without prying.

Then, a few months after the dust had settled, it had become clear. The archer had been in a lounge area, watching the stock market reports, and sipping his green tea. Jesse wandered in—mainly to have some noise and a little company—and sat down in a neighboring chair. He hadn’t been paying attention—only briefly noting the other man—when he heard a clatter. Surprised, he stared at the light blue plastic tube that had fallen to the ground. The archer growled, his face red, as he scrambled after it in uncharacteristic haste. Jesse grunted as it bounced towards him and picked it up. He recognized the common suppressant and offered a nervous grin when the other man snatched it away.

“Now what’re ya doing with that?” the cowboy asked.

“None of your affair,” the archer growled angrily, raising his head loftily.

“No shame in being what ya are,” he observed as the archer stalked out.

As furious as the other man had been, Jesse was surprised to get the urgent message from him a day and a half later. Then everything had come tumbling out. Hanzo was an omega—and he was in heat. Jesse had nodded slowly as the man had babbled in a craze.

Hanzo Shimada was an omega—and it ate bitterly in his heart. He had always been surrounded by alphas. His father and uncles were alphas. His many cousins were alphas. Genji was an apex alpha—his hormones and needs almost off the charts. He even had a few female relatives who were alphas and were always on the prowl for omega men to impregnate them and then be confined to raising pups.

The archer had been humiliated—by his father, by his brother and most especially by his nature. That first time, Genji had been pushed into his rut as his older brother sweated and suffered through his heat. Lost in his rut, Genji had broken into his room, attacking his brother ruthlessly and trying to pin him down. Hanzo had been all but crippled in his heat and had felt desperate tears running down his cheek as he was torn between his cycle’s needs and Genji’s manic humping and clawing. The guards had finally come running and were badly injured as they pulled the apex alpha away.

Sojiro was humiliated that his eldest son—his heir and the scion of the Shimada clan—was not the hoped for apex, was not even an alpha. He immediately put his eldest son on a breathtaking suite of suppressants. Immediately after Hanzo managed to get his heat under control, Sojiro killed the doctor, the driver, the nurse—everyone who might have known the truth. Hanzo himself had been forced to kill the small secretary who had taken his paperwork and Genji had laughed as he strangled the nurse’s assistant. No one remained—nothing remained—and the clinic was torched.

Before that first heat, Hanzo had imagined that he was an integral part of the empire, that he was important to his father and to his clan. He thought that his effort, his strength, his prowess and his leadership meant something. As much as Sojiro crowed proudly that he had sons instead of worthless daughters, Hanzo imagined that his father felt something for him.

Instead, Sojiro had been humiliated and, in turn, humiliated his entire family. Even his mother had been blamed for daring to give birth to an omega—especially a male omega. Sojiro mourned—the whole household in funeral attire—as his eldest suffered through his first heat. In his opinion, omegas—no matter if they were male or female—were only destined to leave their families and go to their alpha’s family to raise their alpha’s pups. There was no future for the Shimada Scion if he was an omega except to be given to an alpha and preferably an alpha female who would have the pups to carry on the clan. The only alternative in the Shimada oyabun’s mind was to give his eldest to another alpha male to secure an alliance and hope that Genji would find an omega female to carry on the family name.

And as an omega, Hanzo would have no choice whatever his father decided.

The first thing that Mercy had done when the archer managed to drag himself to her was to take him off half the injections and pills. It had taken over a year, he had been gradually weaned off the rest until he was using only one injection. He had grown even stronger, becoming leaner and harder as the medicines and herbs had gradually been flushed out of his system. Unwilling to be humiliated further, he was prone to taking the suppressants back to back, rather than allowing himself the customary week between injections, but compared to the complications and side effects of the borderline toxic combination he had been on, that was comparatively benign.

Jesse sighed, nodding as the omega man finally caved into his natural needs. Without the customary week between injections, when he finally was forced into his heat, it was a brutal heat. He offered the other man a kindly ear and understanding. Over that and many, many drinks, they had bonded—figuratively and literally.

But now his omega was agitated again. Of course he had seen you. You were relatively new to Overwatch, but a man would have to be blind to not notice you. You were friendly, kind and properly respectful. You were smart as a whip, too. The cowboy sighed, pushing himself to his feet and going over to wrap his arms around the other man.

Hanzo’s scent was...aroused and smelled of heat. Jesse frowned at that because the archer’s heat wasn’t supposed to be for another couple of weeks. The cowboy sighed, cracking the other man half a smile. “So ya got yerself a nose full of her scent an’...this?!”

“Can you not smell it?” Hanzo folded his arms across his broad chest. “Are you truly so dense, cow man?”

Jesse smiled and dropped a kiss to the other man’s nose. There was a trace of another scent, but nothing even his finely honed senses weren’t picking up whatever it was that was riling up the archer. “Darlin’...you sure ya are on yer meds properly? No duckin’ the week between or nothin’?”

“No, cow man!”

“Ya sure?” Jesse dipped his head to sniff the other man’s neck, right at the scent glans with its bright red bond mark. “Cause ya smell...just a bit like yer gonna be in heat soon?”

Hanzo shoved his shoulder angrily, pulling back. “I cannot believe you, cow man. What kind of alpha are you that you do not smell it?”

Jesse was going to reply, but the archer pulled away and stomped off. Standing there with an open mouth, he watched as the archer stalk away to the bedroom. The light switched off—a sure sign that Hanzo had hidden something away—and Jesse sighed heavily, crossing his arms. Whatever it was, Hanzo needed to get it out of his system. Maybe they’d go out drinking or something, then a nice romp in he huge bedroom.

Jesse uncrossed his arms, bracing for whatever it was. Every time that Hanzo did this, he was a little scared. The first time he had gone off like this and come back, he had returned with several huge bottles of sleeping pills and sleep aids—he had been so hopped up on the suppressants he could barely sleep and was gulping down pills each night. The next time, it had been with an empty bottle of herbs and an empty box that held suppressants of such high dosage that they had been banned in several countries. Then there was the string of times that the archer had brought out first some gay porn, then bondage porn and finally ropes and whips and catalogues of toys and devices. He did this occasionally—disappear and come back to show some horrible skeleton from his closet. Jesse figured it was a defense mechanism—a shocking push away to see if the big American alpha would really stick around.

After all that, Jesse was braced for the worst. There were plenty of things that the archer had asked about, found porn about or stories about other fetishes or other activities that he had no interest in. It vaguely worried him that one day the archer would want to try something that he couldn’t stomach. He frowned, waiting for the worst as the archer came back with something in his fist.

It was...a crumpled pair of lacy panties. Jesse stared at them in confusion, wondering what this was supposed to signify. As he gently took them, Hanzo gave him a satisfied smirk, as though saying ‘there now’. He unfolded the panties, wondering if the archer would be demanding lace and silk now, and saw that they were very small. Far too small for even the archer’s slim hips.

“And now?” Hanzo snapped.

“T-t-they are a nice pair of panties,” Jesse mumbled with a flush.

“And what do you smell?”

Jesse took a tentative sniff. Maybe this wasn’t so bad—an exotic perfume that had turned Hanzo on. There was a sweet smell, a honeyed smell with cinnamon and a tangy after bite. He looked at the glowering man. “What?”

Hanzo snorted. With an irritated gesture, he plucked the cigarillos out of the cowboy’s chest pocket. Waving them in anger, he growled, “These! These must have killed your sense of smell.” He growled, stopping just short of crushing them. “What kind of alpha are you that you cannot smell it?!”

Jesse growled in wounded pride. “There’s nothing to smell!”

Hanzo pushed the cowboy’s hand up to his nose. “Try harder.”

Jesse was going to simply start cursing in a moment. Hanzo usually did not get riled except during his heats. The cowboy was dreading this cycle. If the archer was this disturbed now, the coming heat was going to be hell on wheels. He took in a deep breath, his nose forced into the scrap of silk.

Then he smelled it. God—how had he missed it before? It was there and it coated his nose, his mouth. It was a scent of sweetness that practically sang with an instinctive songs. Jesse felt his blood rush in his veins as he sniffed it.

“There you go,” Hanzo said with a sigh of pleasure. He leaned over and buried his nose in the silk against Jesse’s palm. “Now...smell it.”

Jesse grit his teeth as his cock grew hard in his jeans. Hanzo let out a keening sound, lapping the silk. When the cowboy’s other hand reached down, he could feel that Hanzo’s body was hard and hot as well. Well, this was a happy ending in the making.

Jesse turned his hand to drop the panties, only to have the other man grab his wrist viciously and bury his face in the silk. Abruptly, the archer’s other hand was tearing at the buttons on his shirt, his belt and his jeans. Uncontrollably, they ripped at each other’s clothes, tearing them off and throwing them aside.

Without fanfare or finesse, Jesse pushed the archer down to his knees. The archer lapped at the cowboy’s skin hungrily. Even without the heat, the archer responded, going to his hands and knees and putting his ass in the air.

Jesse growled against the omega’s skin, burying his nose into his neck. His fingers gripped the archer’s neck and stuffed the panties into his mouth. “Yer gonna taste that scent all night.”

The archer nodded, keening and pushing his ass against Jesse’s groin. Jesse rubbed all over against his lover’s skin, against his thrusting hips and trembling muscles. “Fuck yer gorgeous, Hanny-bee.”

Hanzo growled, grabbing the cowboy’s hand and tugging impatiently. His own cock was hot and swollen, aching to be held and caressed. He could taste it now, filling his mouth, with that sweet scent. It wasn’t heat scent. It wasn’t rut scent. Whatever it was, it was different on some elemental level—but it was intoxicating and driving him insane. His cock needed attention now and he drug the cowboy’s hands where he needed them most.

“Yeah,” the cowboy crowed. “Ya little demon. Ya can’t stand it....” His fingers pushed into the archer’s ass. There was a trickle of moisture there—the initial beginnings like at the start of his heat. He growled and shoved his cock inside as hard as he could. The archer bucked hard and growled as his hips curled up. “Yer not even in heat and ya can’t stand it.”

The archer growled, his cock slick with precum and sliding in and out of Jesse’s fist. The rough and calloused hand gripped him and he kept bucking. A small burst of white shot out, landing on the floor. He growled again, sucking hard on the silk in his mouth and getting every tiny drop of whatever it was out of the silk.

Jesse’s hand dropped his throbbing cock and went back to stuff his fingers in the archer’s mouth. “Take it!” He howled as the archer began suckling on his fingers, making him feel even more aggressive. “Take it like a good lil omega bitch.”

Hanzo growled, his eyes snapping as the cowboy muscled him harder. His mouth was full and he fought back hard. He spread his knees and dropped his hips, only to slam up harder against the cock inside. He kicked his leg out, wrapping around the cowboy’s legs to pull him harder.

Jesse hissed to feel his omega writhing so much. Hanzo wasn’t in heat, but damn if he didn’t feel like it—making him feel aggressive. That arrogant toss of his head as he looked back at him. The shiver of his spine that was echoed in the muscles gripping his cock. All of it was almost omega heat. It wasn’t possible—it was too soon, if Hanzo was keeping up with his meds. The cowboy lunged forward again. The omega’s heat scent was out—no mistaking it—and he could feel his knot starting to form as he pushed in deeper.

Hanzo growled and spat out Jesse’s fingers, the panties falling out of his mouth with a slick splat. “Is that all you got, cow man?”

Jesse grunted and leaned to grab Hanzo’s elbows. He yanked hard with his hips thrusting forward sharply. The archer yelped and struggled clumsily, his arms yanked powerfully back. He could fight, could resist, but the other man’s thrusting was so deep and exactly what he needed.

It ended too soon and Hanzo felt the cum shoot out of his body. Shuddering, he clamped down hard on the cowboy’s cock. Jesse cursed foul words and pushed forward again one last time. Hanzo growled as the cowboy’s cock twitched and filled him.

They both collapsed and laid down weakly. Jesse picked up the sodden panties and balled them up in his hand. “Where’d ya get these, anyway, Hanny-bee?”

Hanzo shrugged elegantly and smirked. “I have my ways.”

“Ya stole ‘em,” Jesse said softly. “An’ ya need ta put them back.” The archer nodded grumpily. “Put them back, darlin’.”


	2. Chapter 2

Hanzo had long since perfected the finer arts of silence and shadow. He crept along the hallway and slid open the door he wanted. The apartment was silent, filled with only the soft sounds of someone sleeping. He stepped lightly across the floor, the hastily rinsed and dried panties folded in his pocket. He had other things in his ghi’s numerous hidden pockets—a few small knives and shuriken, a smoke bomb, a few small firecrackers meant to be thrown as a distracting pop and flash of sparks and a few vials.

Not even Jesse knew about these vials, though. Genji did, but he would be even less likely to speak on what they did than Hanzo was. He kept them in a small safe that was under some floorboards under the bedpost. He kept them safe, cleaning the vials and refilling them and trying to mostly ignore that they even existed.

One was arsenic—a plain looking white powder that could be administered over a period of time or all in one dose. Another was a poison that the Shimada clan derived from plants found in most areas of the world—one could not be an assassin without knowing poison. The others were quiet little doses of drugs and herbs so potent that they could be drugs. This time he had carefully selected vials of sleeping drugs. Two of those were powders and one was a sweet tasting liquid. It was the last vial that had actually given him pause—a dose of a hallucinogen potent enough to make anything seem a dream.

His footsteps were a mere whisper. His dark clothes and the scarf that was wrapped around his head blended in until he was nothing more than a shifting shadow. He could see little—he was a mere flesh and blood man with no enhancements—but his other senses were so finely honed that he could almost sense each piece of furniture without seeing them.

There was mostly the standard issue furniture and he glided around those. The bedroom door was open and he slid inside. There, he ducked into a deep shadow and almost knelt to make himself small and still. If anyone woke, he was merely a shadow of a chair or a pile of clothes or a hamper—certainly not a threat.

He took out a thread with a small, tight knot on the end and a small spool on the other end. Gently, he crept to the bedside, holding the thread above the shadowed face and the plush lips. The thread did not touch either of those as he let a drop of the sweet sedative slide down the thread. It lingered silently on the knot at the end, hanging there like a silent promise, before dropping silently to the lips below. Instinctively, there was a soft pursing and then a brush of a sibilant tongue, licking the spot away.

He paused there, with even the thread staying stock still in the air. It burned to hold his arm so still, outstretched like that, but he was patient and strong and disciplined. A few moments more stretched into a minute or more before the thread lowered and he stepped back. Minutes later, he slid back to his small curl beside the furniture.

It was...unfortunate that he still had to breathe. The scent filled this room, making him feel hot and hard and restless. He bit his lip, staying still and disciplined, but every fiber of his body was starting to feel the heat building in his groin. On an instinctive level, he knew that the smell was affecting him in a way he had never imagined, sending his omega mind messages that were too confusing to parse logically.

After minutes of aroused stillness, he reached out with a hand to touch the dresser drawer. It stayed there for several minutes, a flat, dark shadow against the edge of the drawer. Ever so slowly he slid it out—another hiss of soft sound. Slowly, like the creep of clouds across the sky, the drawer came forward. Hanzo stopped there, listening to the deep, even breaths and matching them with his own. There was a pile of shadowy silk and satin and lace and Hanzo carefully took the small bag containing the panties out—not even his own scent would touch them with his gloves and precautions. He laid them gently underneath two more pair where they might be easily missed or found.

He waited a moment, a minute, more, to see if he had disturbed the deep dreaming state of the sleeper on the bed. Nothing stirred, the breathing growing only deeper. His hand trembled over the soft, lacy stacks as he waited. The minutes grew shorter as he grew more sure that the drug was doing its work. He glanced down at the lacy things and slid the drawer back into place.

He began retracing his low, slow steps and was almost to the door when he saw a greater prize. In a small pile behind the small hamper was a lacy camisole where it had carelessly fallen out. He picked it up, gratified to find the scent there, too. He tucked it back into the little bag the panties had been in. Then, content with his unexpected prize, he slid back out the way he came.

Hanzo reappeared in the apartment he shared with Jesse and began peeling off his midnight gray clothes. Everything went into the wash and his vials and knives went into a small hiding place until he could get back to the safe under the bed. He buried the bag in his own drawers, under his socks and pants. It would be safe enough there until he could take it out and breathe in that scent.

After that, there was a period of a few days that nothing happened. Hanzo was carefully quiet, conservative in his deeds and actions. Jesse said nothing either, carefully avoiding mentioning or doing anything that might raise the slightest suspicion of the theft or what happened after it. No one said anything.

It was a quiet afternoon when the archer pulled out the silky camisole. The cowboy fixed a meal that was satisfying and tasty. The archer was pleased to set out the pale and lacy thing on the bed, ready to be discovered “accidentally” after they came in. Jesse liked to take a long walk outside after the evening meal—mostly to smoke in companionable silence as they walked through sunset lit gardens—and Hanzo normally used the time to meditate and cleanse his thoughts for the day.

Things were peaceful as they passed the boxwood bushes. Jesse finished his cigarillo and carefully put the butt in the outdoor container. Hanzo grinned—this was usually the part where they turned around. They smirked at each other, knowing that they were well on their way to an enjoyable evening.

Then there was a soft sound. Both of them saw a door open and close off to the side, someone leaving the gardens just as they were getting there. Hanzo instinctively fell back, ducking behind a tall topiary and into a shadow. Jesse leaned forward, pressing ahead down the smooth path.

Hanzo was just feeling comfortable coming out when he saw Jesse stop, leaning forward. Perplexed, he crept forward himself to crouch beside the cowboy. There, he figured out what had stopped him in his tracks.

There was that thick scent in the air. Jesse growled low in his throat, breathing it deeply. The cowboy’s cock stirred underneath his clothes at the scent that was not hidden or diffused at all by the plants in the garden. It was sweet—the tempting, honeyed sweetness that signaled the alpha that a heat would begin soon. Probably even begin in the next two days or so. Jesse shook his head wildly, trying to clear the scent. He was bonded—he had a mate that he adored. There was absolutely no reason for him to pursue a second one—no matter how sweet the scent.

Then he glanced at his omega. Hanzo growled low in response. He probably didn’t even realize it, but he was bent low and leaning forward like he was moments away from pouncing. His face was contorted into a scowl, and his nostrils flared like a tiger tracking a deer. His hands were in fists and his every muscle was tense. He lowered himself further, like he was going to run a marathon.

“Easy now, partner,” Jesse murmured. He dropped low himself to crouch beside the other man. Whoever it was must have just passed, must have been just a few inches shorter than Hanzo because as they crouched, the scent got stronger, as though they were just at the right height to smell the wafting fragrance from what must have been the strongest source. It was too easy to picture slim thighs going into a soft rump right at this height. Jesse growled again, feeling restless and impatient as he shifted in his clothes. “This—. A heat. It’s a heat, darlin’.”

“This is no ordinary heat,” Hanzo growled. His tattoo lit up with electric blue as his concentrated. “This is—.”

“It’s a heat,” Jesse insisted with a nervous glance at the glowing dragon tattoo. He took in a deep breath, listening for once to the still and small voice in his head that often gave him good advice, even if he ignored it. “It’s a really deep heat, but it’s a heat that’s starting soon. Just...just a heat.”

Hanzo spun in his crouch, grabbing Jesse by the shirt. His lips crashed down on the cowboy’s in bruising force and he yanked at Jesse’s hand. The cowboy’s fist came close, shaking with the force of both men struggling on it. “If this is a heat of another omega, then what is this?!”

Jesse gasped to feel the hard ridge of Hanzo’s cock, the wet spot along the seam. His nose filled with the incense laden smell of the archer’s heat smell and he realized he was just as hard, just as desperate. The tug on his wrist planted his fingers right along that seam, dragging them through the stain of the archer’s slick. As he pressed, he could feel the fabric sliding slickly along the man’s skin and could almost taste the tang on his tongue.

Jesse jumped up, pulling Hanzo up to him. “I.... We have to go back to the apartment.”

“I want her,” Hanzo grunted sourly, shoving Jesse aside. “You cannot stop me.” Jesse skidded along the path to stand in front of him. “I will hunt down this omega, track this scent—.”

“Darlin’—ya....fuck,” Jesse growled, grabbing hold of the smaller man. He slid against him as much as he could to tempt him. “Yer gettin’ riled up by the filly’s smell.”

Hanzo deliberately ground his body into the other man. Every muscle in his body slid suggestively, grinding against every sensitive point on both of them. “And you are not?” His hand yanked down Jesse’s zipper and dove inside to stroke the warm flesh. “You are not getting ‘riled up’, cow man?”

Jesse took a gulp of air, groaning. The archer’s hands gripped him. It was hard to tell if it was the omega’s hands shaking or if his cock was throbbing but hell it felt good. It was ten kinds pleasure as those long fingers began curling against his flesh. “Fuck, darlin’.”

“Is this just an ordinary heat?!” the archer demanded. Hanzo tugged the hard cock out and latched on to it with his mouth. Jesse fell backwards, landing on the path as Hanzo let go and wrapped his fingers around it. “Is it?!”

Jesse growled at the other man’s nimble fingers began to stroke the sensitive skin over his budding knot. “Wh-what?!” Hanzo grinned sadistically. “Jeeze, Hanny. Yer playin’ with fire.”

“I know,” Hanzo nodded, pressing his hands deeper into the open zipper. He smirked, clawing the cowboy’s jeans with a harsh sound. Jesse flushed, bucking upward with a gaping mouth. “I will take care of this.” He stroked Jesse’s cock and then released it. “And then I will take care of that.”

Jesse shook as he stared at Hanzo. His alpha instincts rose up slowly. “Han...Hanzo!” The archer pulled back, sitting on his heels as he looked around. “Han—you don’t....you can’t—.”

Hanzo hissed, his almond eyes dark, the pupils blown wide, and flashing. “I will track the scent.”

Jesse growled, scrambling to his feet and grabbing a hold of Hanzo’s loose clothing in his fist. “Yer gonna go back home.” Hanzo wriggled impatiently, pulling his fist back. Jesse grabbed the fist and grunted. “G-g-get home and I’ll take care of ya.”

Hanzo shook his head. “I want her.” His nose lifted. “Her scent is fading.”

Jesse shook his head. “Go home, Hanzo!”

Hanzo growled, his eyes flaring. “If we don’t move, we will lose it.” He took another deep breath. “Besides, I thought you wanted pups, cow man?” He moved his head. “If you are not going to do this—I will!”

Jesse gaped as the other man rose. “Uhh...Hanzo,” he snapped. “She’s probably got an alpha.” Hanzo snorted, sniffing carefully and looking around. “And she’s not gonna be happy about you—.”

The cowboy scrambled to his feet, groaning as the scent filled his nose and making his body throb. “Hanzo. Hanzo!” He grabbed the man before he disappeared into the door. The archer spun and raised on his toes to scowl in his face. “Now I want pups as much as anyone, but...no. Yer gonna—.”

“I am going to find the omega,” the archer hissed. He smirked and ran his hands down to tuck Jesse’s cock back in his pants. The zipper hissed up. “I will bring the omega to our place.”

Jesse swallowed, his nose filled with the mysterious other omega’s scent and now the swirling scent boiling off the archer. The other man was scowling, almost trembling with an almost anger. His body was trembling too, fighting his urge to go join in the reckless hunt and his urge to go home and pound into his omega. “O-o-okay.” The archer finally cracked a smirk. “But...damn, Hanny-bee—.” 

Jesse growled as Hanzo whirled and vanished inside.


	3. Chapter 3

The scent had faded in to near nothingness as the archer slipped along the hallways. He had spent far too long bickering with the hardheaded cowboy, rather than tracing the scent. Thankfully, there were few people milling around this hallway, and only a few directions that anyone could have gone.

Hanzo looked into each room slowly and carefully before silently closing the door and moving on. He was irritated beyond measure that the cowboy had spent so much time talking when all he wanted to simply move! The intoxicating scent had filled his head, making it spin, as he kept walking.

Then...he caught it again. It was a boiling blast to him, going down the hall to the right. Hanzo grunted and crouched a little, clearing his head of everything but that maddening trail. It slipped to the double doors of the large conference room, drawing him closer and closer. His hands slipped quietly to the knobs and turned them.

The room was mostly dark except for the light shining down on the speaker’s podium. There were ten rows of desks stepping down to the speaker’s podium and conference table, leaving the upper rows almost entirely dark most of the time. Hanzo grinned, his cock throbbing and weeping and a thin trail of slick gathering between his legs. He slipped into the back of the conference room and his eyes focused on the pacing and jittering figure silhouetted against the light.

“...but...I don’t....” He still could not see the pacing figure fully, but the room was designed to carry voices and he heard your every shuddering breath. “Please.... Yes, I know. I know that...that I was supposed to—to come b-b-b-before.... But my heat is.... Look—it’s really irregular.” Another sob echoed in the room. “Please...yes, ask Dr. Z-z-zeigler to see.... If...if you please.... Just...a suppressant dose—please.”

Hanzo dropped down low, becoming a creeping shadow drawing closer. The scent was getting closer and closer now. He almost moaned as he forced his body to keep going, rather than dropping to an instinctively receptive position. It was getting worse, his cock hard and insistent and demanding as the shadowed figure paced back and forth impatiently.

He stopped behind a desk, taking out his phone. He was two rows back and the soft sounds of his movement wouldn’t be hidden much longer. Once the doctor came back to talk, then it would be simpler to get closer, but for just this moment, he needed to pause.

His phone lit up dimly and he saw a pic of the camisole with the text “Where are you now?”. He slowly pressed the numbers of the conference room. His target was pacing more restlessly, hands helplessly seeking friction and relief and he tried to hold on to his patience. A hand with a thumb up appeared on his screen without a sound. He smirked to see a picture of the camisole in the cowboy’s large hand appear next.

Jesse’s grudging approval made the omega’s scent sweeter. The archer smirked in the dim room—undoubtedly his little surprise had only made the cowboy that much harder. He put the little phone away and hunched underneath the small desk a moment longer. His cock was buzzing, throbbing in anticipation as the other small phone buzzed and let out a merry chime.

“Hello? Dr. Ziegler?” A note of relief was clear in your voice. “Yes...yes. I know.” There was a pause and disappointment filled the space. Your heat cycle was absolutely irregular. Despite Mercy’s medicines and potions and acupuncture and all kinds of herbs and supplements, you could never exactly predict when it would bring you to your knees. The suppressants were nice, but without any sort of regularity, it was hard to predict exactly when to take them to stop the heat from making you a slick, sweaty, heat-driven mess. To make it worse, the irregularities seemed to make your heats worse—your core cramping hard and twisting you into contortions as you tried to find relief. Without regular cycles, there was no help from suppressants or anything. “No...no mate. No bonded alpha or anything.”

Hanzo gloated silently. No mate? That meant free for the taking. The cowboy would be pleased—his alpha senses of right and wrong were far more flexible when he hit a rut. He slid a little closer, unable to stop from smirking smugly. This would be an easy target....

He heard the sobbing as he managed to get closer, just on the other side of the first row of desks. The doctor was warbling—a bit of a static over her high voice—and undoubtedly offering good advice. Hanzo bit his lip as his mouth watered over the intoxicating scent. He silently encouraged the doctor to keep talking, just a little longer, as he gathered his legs under him for a leap. His slick kept distracting him as it collected and his hard cock made it even more difficult to do the nimble move to get closer.

He was just on the cusp of making his move when he heard the dreaded sound of someone knocking on the door. You walked swiftly past him to go to the conference room door. His teeth gritted as the door opened.

“Oh thank God.” Hanzo snarled silently at the notes of relief filling the air. The tall form of Mercy stood in the doorway. “Can you give me something?”

Mercy nodded and pulled out a metal box. “This won’t last long—not with you in this state.” He heard the hiss of a injector and the soft grunt of the omega. “This will only last a week or two at most—and it will need a booster at the first sign of your next heat.”

“I understand, I guess.”

Mercy snorted. “Now, understand this. This is a one-time fix. You need to get on a plan of suppressants.” She pulled out a plastic wrapped alcohol pad and opened it restlessly. “I know that you are irregular right now, but you need to hit a schedule.” He heard a whine or complaint. “Have you even tried to approach an alpha? A few cycles with an alpha can help you become regular.”

“I-I...uhh.... I don’t want it! I don’t want to be...be someone else’s breeding sow!”

Hanzo grunted softly—nodding. He felt the same way at times. He had to bite his tongue as he remembered staring up into Genji’s rutting face and into his glazed eyes. Genji had been on top of him, staring down at him with naked desperation and lust. Despite his crippling heat driving him to his knees on the floor and making him shake, he had fought his brother. Genji’s scent had been overpowering, even over the thick sweat that coated them both. He hadn’t wanted it, but Genji had only seen a receptive omega. His brother had only seen a receptive animal to take his cock and not his brother who did not want it.

“Please don’t make me—I couldn’t go to anyone.”

Mercy sighed heavily. “An alpha isn’t necessarily a bad person.”

The reply was almost grating in its shrill tone. “I...I don’t want to be...a helpless thing for someone to pound on.”

“It...it doesn’t have to be like that.” A pause. “Some of the alphas are very gentle.”

There was a snort of disbelief. “A lot of them aren’t.” Hanzo flushed darkly. “And I can’t risk it—let alone if...if there’s kids.” Another pause echoed in the room. “I...can’t risk kids getting hurt by an alpha.”

That almost made Hanzo crumple. How much he had dreaded his heat for the exact same reasons? The archer closed his eyes, forced himself to slow his breathing and his mind slow. He had been lucky to have Jesse—the cowboy was gentle and thoughtful for the most part. Granted, he was more aggressive, less morally rigid during a full rut, but he more than made up for it with his tender care afterward. And there was no chance of them bringing children into the mess of their lives.

The conference room fans kicked on and Hanzo shuddered in his balled up position on the floor. The maddening smell seemed to lift up from where he was huddled on the floor, leaving him chilled and confused. He shuddered silently, faintly ashamed to be intruding on another omega’s obviously private moments. Even as Mercy went through her normal lecture about suppressants and their side effects, he felt the weight of his actions.

Everyone else had both gone—the doctor and you and your maddening scent—when he finally crept out. Immediately, he loped back to his and Jesse’s apartment. As soon as he managed to get the door open, he heard Jesse groaning in the bedroom as the bed squeaked. His cheeks flamed and he went to the first place he could reach and flopped down.


	4. Chapter 4

Meanwhile, Jesse held on to the silk as he lounged in the bedroom. It was softly redolent of the intoxicating heat scent he had smelled in the gardens. He sniffed it, the seams along the sides and hems giving him a heavier taste. The scent went straight to his cock.

Hell, Hanzo may be an omega, but his instincts were on point. This was definitely a heat smell and it was getting to the alpha. He unzipped his pants and took his hard cock in his hand. His fingers wrapped into a fist and began to thrust.

The cowboy laid back on the bed. Hanzo had always gotten restless just before his heats, but this felt different. He had never seen him like this. He had always gotten bristly before his heats because he was ashamed of being submissive in any way. He would usually act more aggressive to hide the submission, but this was different.

And it was hot.

His skin shivered as he stroked himself. Hanzo was a beautiful man—no two ways about it. He was made like a master’s sculpture out of sandy marble. His lips were impossibly soft when he stretched them around his cock and lapped at his skin. The way that he would lap at the cowboy’s balls with a desperation to please made Jesse moan.

The cowboy laid the garment across his face, taking in the smell as his hands worked at his hard flesh. He thrust into his fist with the smell in his nose. He imagined the archer being there. That man turned him on just being in the room, made him want to touch and taste that finely honed body when he was across the room and stroking himself, let alone when he was needing to be touched.

He loved that bitter and bristly man. He loved the way he moved, the way he would waltz over the floor like he was dancing. He loved the way his eyes flared and darkened when he was aroused. He loved the way the archer would kneel so slowly it was graceful and the way that he would fold his hands, knitting his fingers together and then let that slow smirk settle on his features.

Jeeze, it was like he was a young buck again. He should have outgrown this need to claim and conquer long ago, but this was an unbearable scent. Uncontrollable heat flooded him. Christ, this felt good—feeling his lust go through him as he kept thrusting into his fist. He bucked, thrashing in the messy bed as a spurt of whitish came out.

In another moment, his climax exploded out of his cock. His seed went everywhere, all over his fists and the rumpled sheets. He cursed, thrusting up and down slowly as everything faded.

His memories came back and surrounded him as he laid there. He loved that man. He loved everything about him. Despite the deep gashes and scars on his soul, he had a lot of good in him. He seemed to think he was unworthy of love, unworthy of gentleness. He thought he was a lost soul, a demon without hope.

Only the cowboy didn’t see him like that.

Not that Jesse was an innocent. His pa and he hadn’t gotten along—ever. He had run out with the Peacekeeper, scrapping through the streets to get a safe place to sleep and hustling cards to get enough to eat. He had been tossed out of three casinos for counting cards by the time he was fourteen. By fifteen he could do it without getting caught. You learned fast on the streets, or you didn’t get a chance to try again.

At sixteen he was huge and had his first alpha rut. On the streets, there were no omegas—only the occasional whore who might or might not be clean. He had won a fight and about $265, but his lip was split and there was a bruise on his cheek. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but as he left the ring, he had gotten a whiff of that scent. Sweaty and aching, he turned and saw the timid little girl with the thick collar around her neck standing next to the fat fight organizer.

He remembered roaring, leaping at her. She smelled so good and had squealed as he grabbed her, burying his face in her neck. Her tits mashed against him and her legs crumpled as he gripped her waist and neck. His cock was immediately hard and he was steadily humping her hips.

Then the big bouncers grabbed him, yanking him off of her. She screamed again as the fat man drug her back towards him. The fat man had laughed as he bent her over and jammed his fat fingers into her leaking core. They were glistening with her slick as he brought them to his nose and sniffed them.

“Good going, boy,” he snarled. “Not only do I walk away with more money than you’ll ever see, but you got my bitch fluffed and ready to go, too. Not a bad day’s work.” The bouncers sat on him holding him down as the fat guy kicked his ribs. “But I get the money and the girl.”

He drug her over, kicking and clawing as she slid into her heat. He held her hair, pressing her face into his. That scent burned into him and his instinctive mind reacted explosively, his hips pumping futilely as he tried to get to the girl. She whined and clambered over him, presenting her hips up and then grinding down over his aching cock.

Only to have the fat man drag her off and away into the crowd. He didn’t remember much after that, only the bouncers roughing him up before they tossed him into an alley. The cops picked him up, then, dragging him to jail. He had been put into solitary to ride out the heat with his hands and a caged up television broadcasting porn.

Gabriel Reyes had found him there a few days afterward. He had a long, long list of charges—some this he had done and others were made up—and was gearing up for a long, long chill in jail. Reyes took one look at the one-time street fighter and gambler and liked the look of him. He liked the look of the young man, the small reputation and big mouth on him. And he offered the young man a one-way deal.

He liked his situation—warm apartment, hot food, company, and something that resembled honest work for good pay. He had even managed to find a receptive omega. They were both crazy as bedbugs, but in a weird way they worked. Kind of like Ozzie and Harriet or something.

He frowned, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Whatever this new thing was, he worried like a dog with a bone. He hadn’t seen anything like this, hadn’t seen this side of his mate before. Hanzo was so self-conscious—so intimately aware—of how it felt to be taken advantage of that he was the last person that the cowboy would have pegged to aggressively go after anyone.

He prayed that the archer wasn’t getting in over his head. Restless for an update, he took a pic of the silky underwear and sent a message. Who knew what was going on? Maybe he had cleared his head. Maybe he had pursued the scent trail. Either way, it was time for him to come home.

He hoped he could keep things on the level, keep him happy. God knew that the omega deserved that....


	5. Chapter 5

A few minutes after he arrived home, the cowboy came staggering in with a grimace on his face. Immediately, he cringed, seeing the archer curled in the chair, staring at nothing. He dropped the messy lingerie and crept over. “Hanny-bear—what’s wrong?”

Hanzo’s face turned slowly up, his eyes haunted. He couldn’t get the nauseating feeling of Genji over him, rutting against him and utterly insensible to his own brother’s protests and wishes. He had squirmed painfully as every memory replayed. How many times had he felt worthless and helpless as he had been confined to his room while Genji stalked the estate during his rut? How often had he felt broken as he swallowed pills and medicines and injected himself, to try to hold off a heat that would only bring every alpha in Japan to rip apart the estate to find him. How many hours had he spent training to try to feel like he had some kind of control and could maybe hold off an aggressive alpha’s attack?

He held the cowboy’s eyes a few moments longer and then he turned away to stare at a small brownish stain in the carpet. The man’s face was pale and harshly drawn as he sighed heavily.

“Hanny-bee? Ya there?” Jesse came over to sit in the next chair. “What’s goin’ on, darlin’?”

“I saw...heard—.” His voice went soft and whimpered. “I found her.”

Jesse nodded. “An’ I’ll guess that somethin’ happened?”

The archer’s eyes closer and his cheeks flamed. “There.... The omega was there. I was close enough that I could have grabbed her.” He shuddered. “And she called out to Mercy and got suppressants...in time.”

Jesse nodded slightly, staring at the archer solemnly. “Yer not talkin’, darlin’.” He made an openly inviting gesture. “Why don’t ya tell me what’s going on?” Hanzo shrugged and looked away. “An’ I suppose that yer ashamed o’ yerself?”

The omega man nodded shyly, his cheeks flaming. He felt ashamed of himself—ashamed that he had gotten so worked up, ashamed that he had not considered the wishes of the omega, ashamed that he had been as careless and ignorant of the other omega as anyone else had ever been of him. He had been willfully persistent and hunted without remorse. How could he be like that? He grit his teeth even harder, his fingers curling into claws. Without looking at anything else, he reached up to claw his neck, the skin of his chest.

“Stop it,” Jesse barked suddenly as the archer’s nails began to dig furrows into his skin. Hanzo’s eyes finally turned to look at him. Jesse sighed and nodded. “Yer...yer not gonna start tearin’ yerself up. I don’t allow that.” The alpha pushed himself to his feet and pointed to a corner of the room where there was a thin mat in front of a corner bookshelf. The bottom quarter was a cabinet with odds and ends and there were four shelves above it. The top shelves were filled with various books—field manuals, a few classic works and a rather nicely carved bucking bronco—but the bottom shelf held only a small votive holder with a tea light candle and a small glass incense holder with a white box of incense sticks beside it. “Go on, darlin’—don’t make this harder on yerself.”

Hanzo nodded blankly and slid to the thin mat. The thread of alpha command in Jesse’s voice made him—compelled him—before he quite knew it. He slid off his clothes and stripped to his waist without being told. Jesse slid up quietly behind him and fumbled around to light the little candle before taking something out of a drawer somewhere else in the room. Hanzo stared at the little flame, taking in deep breaths and trying to figure himself out.

The cowboy was again behind him. “Now, darlin’—ya need ta pull together.” Hanzo felt something graze his skin. “Ya done broke into someone’s place a bit, hunted an omega, an’ then started tearin’ yerself up.” The grazing tickled Hanzo’s skin. “An’ ya know I won’t let ya go without tellin’ me why.”

Hanzo nodded silently. Why had he been doing that? He had felt crazed. The smell of the thick scent had driven him mad. But he was an omega and—from all he knew—unable to get pushed by another omega’s scent. Why had he been so insistent, then? Another vision of Genji on top of him filled him. His hands curled again and he reached up to his right shoulder.

There was a whistling shush and then a line of stinging pain went from his shoulder blade down his back. Hanzo grunted in surprise—surprise at the blow and surprise that it was a sting from a light whip made from horsehair, rather than a crop or something more severe. He glanced over his shoulder at the cowboy and saw that it was, indeed a wad of stiff horsehair.

Jesse raised his hand again. “Ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Hanzo dropped his hands and went to stare back into the flame. “I guess not.”

Hanzo felt the next blow like a hot painter’s brush. His hands curled into fists then, dropping to rest on his thighs. The two stripes stung but were not harsh—a gentler form of redemption than he thought he deserved. He hung his head low, feeling dizzy and disoriented for a moment. Another blow landed, then a fourth.

The cowboy paused and waited a beat to see if the archer would reach up again. A hand flickered, rising up his thigh and Jesse let out another whistling blow. “How much ya gonna do this to yourself, Han?” He struck again. “How much longer are ya gonna rip yourself up and punish yourself?”

“I-I...deserve the worst of punishment,” Hanzo muttered softly.

Jesse struck two more times. “And if I say ya don’t?”

“I still do.”

Jesse puffed out a sigh. “And yer not gonna listen to me?” Hanzo shrugged. “Our first rule...way back when, was you’d tell me. Ya weren’t supposed to go punishin’ yourself or make ya sick or nothin’ without my approval.”

Hanzo nodded slightly, his eyes closing. It was one of their first rules together. He had lost track of a target as he tried to create an opening for the team to slip through. The team got through, but the target managed to escape with several thousand in stolen drugs. He had crawled back to his apartment, the cowboy hot on his heels. He slid to his bedroom, turning off the lights, and gone to his stash. 

The cowboy had waited—must have been ten minutes or more—and had come to see Hanzo in a mess. He had been surrounded with a sharpened wooden knife, a sharpened dowel rod, a pile of bandages and pads. He had dug the sharp ends into his skin, drawing pain and punishment at the loss. Life in Hanamura had taught him to hide well and it was all down his thighs and over his right shoulder where his usual uniform and kimono would cover them.

Jesse had come in and sighed, staring at the other man as he gaped up in shame and embarrassment. It took them a long time to scoop up the bandages and to find a tube of antiseptic cream and to patch him back up. Jesse had offered to call Mercy, but looking at the dizzy layers of scratches, he had began the bewildering process of trying to help the other man.

So, he set up this little corner. It was a last ditch effort that Jesse wasn’t even sure would actually help—but the archer was more relaxed, better focused as time went on. Jesse at last managed to figure out some of his tells—the ways to predict which way the archer would react. When he felt the need to punish himself—when the archer felt the need to hurt himself to find the relief of retribution—Jesse would step in. It hurt like hell, punishing the archer, but it was a lighter version than what he would do to himself.

Jesse smacked him three more times, hard enough to hear the other man grunt. “Yer done here,” he hissed. “Yer not gonna hurt yourself any more over this.”

Hanzo blinked slowly. “I...I was wrong—.”

“Hanny-bee,” the cowboy puffed. “You were...but.... You backed out and let her alone.”

“I abandoned her to Mercy and her potions.” Hanzo shook his head. “Then they vented the conference room.”

Jesse cocked his head and stared at the other man. “And...all that lifted?” Hanzo nodded slowly. “OK.” He looked at the kneeling man’s back thoughtfully. There were oval splotches here and there and his skin was rosy, but unbroken. “Okay, then. So, three more and we’re done, darlin’.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. The stinging sank into his skin, into his muscles, into his soul. He deserved to be punished. He deserved far worse for what he had done—what he had been going to do. But it was freeing, too—to be done with his grief over it, done with remorse and to be able to move forward. He counted the first swat in his head, sorrowful for what he had done. He counted the second one, sorrowful for what he had almost done. He counted the third one, sorrowful for everything he had ever done.

“There now,” Jesse crooned. “Yer done.” He tossed the whip aside, where the archer could see it. “Now...I want ya to light yer incense an’ meditate for a while.” He paused. “Just sit and meditate for two of yer sticks and I’m gonna do some reading’.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. With a grace born of thousands of meditations, thousands of people, he slid open the box and took out the first stick. Sliding it into the holder, he lit it and waited. He emptied his mind, letting everything flow out and fall away. Just breathing, in and out deeper and deeper, was soothing and settling. He watched as his breath let the air slide the smoke away. Then, as he inhaled, the thin line of smoke pulled forward to caress him.

Everything slid away even farther than before. Jesse moved around behind him, clicking and clacking and rustling. He faintly heard the sound of the small printer that they used for printing out calendars, coupons, and dragon memes and the like. He stared blankly at the incense stick as it burned to the bottom. Then he lit the next one, staring as it, too, burned to an ashy nub.

The stinging was gone as he sighed and got up. The action was past and his alpha had judged him, leveling his punishment. It was over and sealed away and that left him almost sleepy, rather than jumpy and charged. He stretched and picked up the horsehair whip to put it away. It lived on top of a white handkerchief in the top drawer of one of the side tables, next to a slick metal toy and a few small sample packets of lube and a pile of plastic foil wrapped condoms. Hanzo slid the drawer closed just as Jesse let out a whoop and the printer stopped. 

The cowboy came bursting out of the spare bedroom-cum-office with a few pages in his meaty fists. “Hey, darlin’! Yer not gonna believe what I found.”

The archer stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. The tall man shoved the papers forward and began pointing at the painstakingly highlighted lines. “Here...read this an’ this an’ that line there.”

Without waiting for the archer to actually read the lines, Jesse began explaining excitedly. “So, I went online to do a little research. Turns out that there’s a tiny group—a 0.0001%—of the population that is such a deep omega that they’re...they’re...”

“They are what?” Hanzo crossed his arms impatiently. “You are not making sense.”

Jesse’s enthusiasm was undimmed as he kept pointing excitedly. “Ya know like...like how 76 and...and, well...Genji are so highly ranked as alphas, right?” Hanzo nodded slowly, his cheeks turning a furious red. “That their hormonal readings are in the top of the alpha range, right?” He pointed again. “So, there’s an opposite.” He pointed at the small, coarsely printed chart showing a reverse bell curve like a goblet. “There’s what...the doctors’ call a ‘zenith omega’.”

Hanzo shrugged, his brow furrowing in confusion and Jesse nodded again. “So....that’s the thing, Hanny-bee. It’s a thing—really rare—but it happens. And the pheromones for a zenith omega, they’re just as far off the chart on the other end.” He pointed to the various charts. “While an apex has this profile and a typical omega has this one—the zenith omega actually is here. The zeniths actually don’t have the trace amounts of alpha hormones that most omegas have to keep themselves even. Ya can see that they don’t have the balancin’ hormones. Even at the end of their heats—they are actually missin’ those. So the heat is worse for them ‘cause there’s nothin’ to even it out.”

Hanzo unfolded his arms and took the papers. Scanning them, he nodded jerkily. “And the symptoms are irregular heats and a lack of responsiveness to suppressants.”

Jesse grinned and pointed again. “But...that’s not the end of it. See?” He pointed to a highlighted line. “Just like alphas emit pheromones and they can trigger omegas and vice versa, right?” Hanzo nodded slowly. “Well...regular omegas have a very low level of the alpha hormones that rise at the end of the heat to balance them out again. A zenith’s hormones don’t have that—only a super intense concentration of the omega stuff that triggers the rush of alpha hormones like for a rut.

“Do ya get it?” Hanzo shook his head uncertainly. “Ya got zapped and pushed. Like if I hit an out of cycle rut, you get pushed into a heat, right?” Hanzo nodded again uncertainly. “So...when the lil filly hit her heat—ya got pushed ‘cause ya have just that lil bit of alpha in ya.” He grinned in satisfaction. “Ya got pushed into a rut, Hanny-bee.”

“Impossible,” Hanzo grunted.

“Nope,” the cowboy smirked. “Now, it wasn’t a full tilt rut like I get. But ya got enough of the balancin’ stuff and it would flood ya because she was literally more of an omega than you. But when you got the rush of hormones, ya got both the rutting stuff and then yer own heat.”

Hanzo stared blankly and re-read the papers. It was a long shot, but it seemed to make sense. His experience suddenly seemed to make more sense, lightening his guilt. He nodded thoughtfully again, staring at the charts and diagrams. Had he truly been at fault? Or had he been pushed? There was a 0.0001% chance that the cowboy was right—but stranger things had happened.

He went to sit down and re-read the information. They both went through the rest of the night, looking up and cross checking. They bought cheap Chinese food—delivered in 30 minutes or less or the next order was 30% off—and read everything a million times over shrimp fried rice and egg rolls and beef and broccoli.

“Makes sense, don’t it, Han?” the cowboy asked, finally.

Hanzo nodded slowly, rubbing his eyes. It finally was making sense. The guilt slid off of him. “I would say that you are right, then.”

“Damn straight,” Jesse grinned. “And now...she’s gonna hit a heat again.” He tapped the stack of papers. “If Mercy gave her a regular dose, it will be in about two weeks. 10 days at the earliest. Then she’ll hit a heat again.”

Hanzo wearily cracked half a smile. “Just what are you thinking?”

Hanzo sat back thoughtfully, not expecting an answer as the other man grinned at him. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. You deserved to be treated gently, to be courted and held and treasured—all the things he had never felt and never really believed existed before he met Jesse. You were an unclaimed omega, though—vulnerable to being claimed the instant you hit your heat—and he couldn’t stomach the idea that 76 or...or even Genji prowling around and pouncing on you. What if they hurt you? He probably would be doing you a favor if he led you to Jesse—the cowboy would be soothing, would know what to do. The fact that you would also be near him and he could figure out what in heaven’s name was happening—that would be gravy.

“And yer not hearing anything I said,” Jesse smirked good-naturedly.

Hanzo blinked in surprise. “What?”

Jesse slid closer, taking the omega’s hand. “Darlin’. We could finally have pups.” Hanzo gaped. “If...if we can...reach her—we could have a family.”

Hanzo took his alpha’s hand slowly in his own. “I know.”

“A family. Pups, Hanny-bee.... Real pups.” Jesse puffed out an excited breath. The cowboy smiled as the omega man stared at him. He was so excited about the prospect of little ones he was shaking. “Think about it, Han! We could have pups.”

The archer frowned thoughtfully. You deserved...so much more than he had ever gotten as an unclaimed omega. But this wild plan of the cowboy’s? Weren’t pups worth it? Still...you deserved to have a chance, a choice—wasn’t that just as important? Would you choose to leave? Would you choose to stay? How would you even know what to choose unless he did something?

Jesse felt his enthusiasm dim as the other man seemed to lapse into a thoughtful silence. The Japanese man just sat there, staring at their joined hands. Maybe he didn’t want pups? Maybe he was so repelled by what happened to him as a child, he simply didn’t want children running around? Jesse patted Hanzo’s hand slowly.

“I’m sorry, Han,” the cowboy muttered. “I just...just got so happy about....” He scratched his scruffy chin. “What are ya thinkin’, darlin?”

Hanzo stared at nothing, leaning back in the chair. “What...what about her?”

Jesse swallowed heavily. “Well, I...I guess....” He looked abashed. “Han...I would...would take care of you.” Hanzo nodded blankly. “I swear I would. That wouldn’t change.”

“But her...! She would....” Hanzo puffed out a breath. “It would not be...fair.” He curled over their joined hands. “She would be afraid, alone.” He looked up at the cowboy with wet eyes. “Are you that...dense?” He blinked and ignored the tears pooling in his eyes and making things blurry. “You would not understand.”

Jesse knelt down in front of the other man with his brown eyes pleading. “Tell me.” Hanzo shook his head. “Just tell me what’s wrong?”

Hanzo sighed slowly. “You...are an alpha. You have no idea what it is like—to be an omega. To feel helpless and afraid. To be in heat.” Jesse made a soft noise. “It is hell on earth. The heat takes...everything.” He shuddered. “It...it is to be helpless and afraid and for nothing to matter except to submit to being humiliated, to being hurt and used and abandoned—if you are lucky.” He let out a bitter laugh. “The other option is—unspeakable.”

“You ain’t never gonna feel like that again,” the cowboy whispered. “It’s not like that—not now.”

Hanzo looked at the alpha as though seeing him for the first time. “You are an alpha, Jesse. It has always been your karma to take, rather than to be taken.” He shuddered. “The heat makes you simply helpless. It is like a drug that brings you to your knees with your ass in the air and begging for it like a harlot in the streets.” He gripped the cowboy’s hands tightly. “No one...whether they are alpha or omega or beta...deserves to be hurt and humiliated. To be forced.” He stared at Jesse’s wide brown eyes. “And if you think she should be, then you are no better than the others.”

Jesse stared at their joined hands. What did he believe? You were an unclaimed omega—there was no alpha to raise a stink. No matter how much he might want it to be different, omegas and alphas needed each other. But what did it mean for Han? For you? He took in a deep breath and said carefully, “What are you...? What are you worried about?”

“She needs to be treated well,” Hanzo bit out. “She needs to be given a choice—.”

“Always,” Jesse swore.

“She needs to be given a choice,” Hanzo repeated dully. “She needs to have the ability to leave—.”

“I’ll...try,” Jesse blushed. “But a heat.... A rut.” He shrugged. “It’s not like that can just...stop.”

Hanzo nodded. “I know. But...she needs to be treated well—by both of us.” His hands curled into frustrated fists. “I...I do not know...if I can.” He puffed out a breath. “I have never—ever—dealt with anything like that.” He growled softly. “I will need to be....”

“I’ll be there,” Jesse nodded. “Soon as I can smell it, I’ll be there with ya—if you want to pursue this.” He cocked his head curiously. “Ya do, don’t ya?” Hanzo gritted his teeth and nodded. “So...we give her a hand during her heat, right?” He held up his hand in a solemn salute. “And the first lull...we talk to her and give her a choice.”

“Pups,” Hanzo whispered softly. His eyes crinkled slightly with humor. “We could have children.”

“She can choose to be with us or not, right?” Jesse looked at the archer, waiting until he nodded. “She can choose to keep the pups or not, right? We can give her a choice like no one else can.” Hanzo looked up at him with a solemn expression. “We can give her a choice cause even if I get pushed into a rut—or if you get pushed—we’ve got each other, don’t we?”

Hanzo nodded thoughtfully. Yes...they had each other. Through all kinds of hell, they had each other’s back. Even before they were bonded, mated—they had each other. When he got hit with the closest to a rut he would ever come, he had Jesse to help him.

“And...pups—,” Jesse muttered softly, “—they wouldn’t have to grow up like you. Like me.” He patted the archer’s hands. “They wouldn’t have to run out at midnight with a gun and big ideas. They wouldn’t have to...to be a stooge for a bunch of old guys who want ya to kill.”

Hanzo broke at that. He sobbed over their hands. “They did nothing to me that I...I did not want to do.” He growled as tears hit their hands. “I was not a...a—.” He sniffed irritably. “I was hardly any kind of puppet.”

Jesse puffed out an impatient breath. They had been going over this same ground for months—years, probably. And it hurt every time. He stroked the other man’s cheek gently. “Darlin’—they had a firm grip on you since ya were born. They put ya on a path that ya couldn’t get out of. They warped ya—folding everything like one of yer paper cranes. And it’s no surprise that when they pointed, you struck cause that’s what they built you to do.” He stroked the archer’s hair. “Our pups will never—ever—have to do that. They will never have to be that.” He grunted softly. “And I will be damned before I let anything happen to our kids.”

Hanzo nodded slowly, his eyes still wet and his throat scratchy. He wanted children—little girls with Jesse’s eyes and little boys to play with. He secretly loved watching the families during functions on the base—seeing them play games and tell secrets and run around like he had always wanted to. Jesse might not understand it and he, honestly, never spoke of it—but he loved babies especially. He loved soft little babies with their little toes and big eyes and soft hands, wrapped in fuzzy clothes and soft blankets like little dumplings.

Jesse seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to our kids. Our pups are gonna be fine.” He patted Hanzo’s hands, relieved as they relaxed. “We can raise them right—love and family and all the things we never got.”

Hanzo snorted finally. “If she is agreeable to even having children.” His heart fell as he mentally kissed those dream babies good bye. “And you have already promised me, cowboy, to give her that choice.”

Jesse blinked nervously. “Well...I reckon I did.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. He wiped his eyes restlessly and stared at the cowboy. “And if we do this—if we approach her—I want you to promise me one thing.”

“Anything, love.”

“That you will make sure I give her a choice, too.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo lingered in the shadows as a matter of habit. He did not mean it—not consciously or intentionally—but he watched you. You were notably absent the next day, which he considered natural after a prescription-level dose of suppressants. He was always shaky if he took a dose of them too late in his cycle—usually when Jesse was on a mission—and it could make his stomach turn. But you returned the next day and he watched you.

Actually, he watched over you. He knew the agonies of being an omega—afraid of everyone who might decide that you looked or smelled tasty. He knew, in his bones, every one of the words he had overhead—he had replayed them a hundred times over every day. He had said them himself in the desperation of his own heats. He didn’t want to admit it—even to himself—but he was watching over you to stop anyone else from forcing you to do anything you didn’t want to do. He could barely admit to himself that he wanted to protect you from someone like him—and he ignored that he wanted to protect you like he had never been protected.

You barely noticed him. Or, rather, you noticed him only from the corner of your eyes, at the periphery of your mind. He didn’t mind that—mainly because it meant that you didn’t regard him as a threat—and it did give him the opportunity to study you.

You were shy around everyone. He supposed it was natural response. It must be frightening to be receptive to everyone. Heaven knew that he was wary around 76 or Reyes—large, powerful men who were both alphas—and he was a well muscled man. How much more terrifying was it to be a shorter and less muscular woman? To be surrounded by men and even some women who could bench press hundreds and were all battle-hardened?

So, he watched as you went from place to place, did this and that. He shooed away the smaller, less aggressive alphas and all of the betas. They didn’t react well to being pushed away, but they did finally scatter as his silent presence pushed them away.

You were smart enough to keep to yourself which he could only suppose was a hard won lesson somewhere along the way. You didn’t linger around the watering holes and you avoided the areas that the alphas hung out—the heavy weight room, the high-powered weapons range, and the one lounge that always seemed to be playing some testosterone laden action movie. You studiously avoided—as did anyone else with an ounce of common sense—the sturdily built temporary quarters for alphas to live in during their ruts where the furniture was either reinforced steel or so cheap no one cared if it was broken.

He wanted you to feel safe. He knew the immense value of feeling safe—the ephemeral and elusive feeling that you were accepted for who and what you were and that there wasn’t some horrible reckoning waiting for you around the corner. He had not felt truly safe as an omega until he had met Jesse. The big cowboy refused to be shocked no matter how many dark and oozing skeletons he drug out of his mental closet. The big cowboy who would pull him in his lap and hold him tight when he thought he was going to split into pieces. The cowboy who understood on some native and instinctive level how very hard it was for him to let go.

He almost wanted to take you to Jesse now. He wanted to...as silly as it sounded even to him in his head...share that feeling of warmth and safety. He wanted to see you smile warmly because you knew that nothing could harm you. He wanted you to know what it was to not fear the coming of a heat, to know that there was someone who could understand and help you, rather than offer you humiliation and degrading possession.

But then he saw you flinch away from the crusader. The big German would never harm a fly without orders in triplicate, signed, sealed, filed, queried, investigated, re-filed and then eventually cross-referenced, but you were still painfully shy and moved away almost as soon as he sat down. There was no timid glance, no curious or wistful look over your shoulder. Instead, there was a head-down determination to simply move somewhere else without any kind of omega curiosity.

You were contemplating Mercy’s advice of just going ahead and approaching one of the alphas that were on the base. She had laughed—only half teasing—that you would even out if you had an alpha and was exposed to the alpha’s hormonal cycle. Her theory was that bonding with an alpha would help you out by tying your rhythm to the alpha’s. As you went into a more regular cycle, your symptoms would become less extreme. Then you would be able to start a cycle of suppressants that would really get your cycle under control.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have plenty to choose from. Alphas were physically larger and more muscular than betas or omegas, with apex alphas larger and more aggressive still—which sounded like a profile for membership in Overwatch. In general, the higher up on the scale an alpha was, the more extreme their traits were. The alphas rarely hid their status, but omegas were less likely to come out. McCree never made any bones about being an alpha. Reinhardt had the reputation of being the gentlest alpha, but he often turned down omegas. 76 was terrifying. The SEP had only accepted extreme alphas in the first place, but the serum had enhanced everything about him and now he was rumored to be vicious in his ruts unless he had a suppressant dose of his own. Genji was proud of his alpha status, but how he or when he approached anyone was hidden in silence and shadow and secrecy. Zarya was the only female alpha and she was as big as many of the males. Which brought you to think about the archer.

He sure was easy on the eyes. He gave you a nod and a grudging smirk, which made him look amazingly more handsome. You knew he had a reputation for being polite and understanding and thoughtful, even though he was reserved and withdrawn. With such an obviously alpha brother and muscular frame, it only made sense that silent and brooding Hanzo was also an alpha. He had a swagger, a way about him, that made you feel warm and excited inside.

You were debating who you would want to approach when you saw him walk past and you felt the first tickle in your stomach. Hell, didn’t it just figure? You needed your emergency suppressants immediately—before this was too big a problem. Mercy would definitely not approve another of her high-powered doses so soon, but you did have an emergency injector at your apartment. You bit your lip and nodded at the archer before staggering to your feet and limping to the apartment block. You felt the heat building in your veins as you got to the walkway between the apartments, slick pooling in your groin.

He had sat behind you in the cafeteria, ignoring his serving of chicken parmigiana and buttered noodles. Other people came and went all the time, all around you and him. You ignored them, staring down at the breaded chicken with its cheesy and tomato sauce covered goodness. Instead, you seemed to be guzzling the cold ice water and fanning yourself.

He took a sip of his own drink—cold green tea with organic agave nectar. A man walked up, holding his tray, and smiled to see you sitting alone at a table with four chairs. Hanzo grunted and stood up. Scowling harder, he deliberately walked between you and him to the small counter that held the condiments and the small cylinders that held the silverware. He wove around the tables, deliberately pausing in front of the smaller man and flexing his muscles slightly with a grunt.

The smaller man looked up at him with a small gaping face, and turned towards another table. Hanzo nodded at him and then glanced at you. Your face was confused as you watched him before scowling nervously and then going back to your meal. He nodded slightly with a flush and went to the counter to pick up a bottle of...something and go back to his own table.

When he sat down again, he looked at the bottle of sweet-hot mustard and wondering what exactly he was supposed to be doing with it since he had a bowl of fruit, a small bowl of hummus with pita chips, and sweet green tea. He was staring blankly at it when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. You were nervously standing up, glancing over at him, before dumping everything and stalking towards the door. He sat up, expecting that you wanted to say something, but you only gaped slightly and then turned away.

Something went off in his head—a silent alarm—and he tossed his meal as well. He had spent days following you and figured that you’d retreat to your own apartment or to your tiny cubicle office. Going to the door, he paused for an uncertain moment.

There was a small trace of spice in the air.

He felt himself go pale, every trace of blood going to his feet. His whole body knew that scent and reacted with burning fire and throbbing in his cock. Every instinct that he never knew he had buried inside cried out and he leapt out of the room. He always wanted to hide in his apartment when his heat first hit because it was where he felt most safe, so he decided to try your apartment first.

The spice grew heavier and sweeter as he slid down the hallways. You were so close that he could hear your staggering footsteps. The scent trail went down the hallway to the block of apartments and he could hear your lurching footsteps. Anyone could follow the scent now and he hurried down the hallway.

Then he saw your apartment door open and heard scrambling sounds inside. He took a shallow breath, well aware that the scent was already making him hard. The archer crept up and saw you leaning against the recessed doorway.

“Are you well?” Hanzo asked from behind you as you leaned against one of the walls. You whimpered at how cool it felt against your skin and almost missed his question. The archer sniffed the air with a slightly questioning look in his eyes. He looked dazed as you stared up at him. It was like looking into a mirror of when he had his first heat—confused, needy and hurting. He felt half hard and half in heat even now, but he ached inside with the idea that you might have already had some kind of plan. He hated the heat driven feeling of having no choice but to offer up to whoever happened to be closest. But, you would have that choice—he would give it to you even if it killed him. It was all he could do to grit out, “Do you require assistance?”

You whined and looked up in confusion, nodding jerkily. Your brow was gleaming with sudden sweat and despite that, you seemed to give him a half smirk of recognition. He knew you were in heat—he could taste it—but you were so confused and so shaky, you might simply be unable to think at all. He saw your keys leaking out of your pocket and he started to reach for them when you grabbed them and tugged them out of your pocket. Even just that small tugging made your skin prickle in excitement. Your face showed a brief look of relief as you jammed the key into the knob when you heard him walk up closer behind you.

He slid closer nervously. He was getting jumpy and he didn’t know if he wanted to hit the floor beside you with his ass in the air or if he wanted to slide into you. If this instinctive need to claim was what Jesse felt, he had to admit he felt something akin to pity for the cowboy to be at the mercy of such rushing and blistering excitement. He took a deep breath and you flushed as his face leaned against your skin.

“Nani? Nani ga mondaidesu ka?” he whispered softly, accidentally lapsing back into his native tongue. You stared up blankly at him, uncomprehending, and he tried a different approach. “You are...in heat?”

You nodded slowly, whimpering as he took your keys and opened your apartment for you. Gruffly, he pulled you inside. You barely made it into the door before your knees gave up. You dropped to the floor with a harsh grunt. Your hands were already rubbing, tugging your clothes and dragging the seams against your oversensitive skin.

Hanzo could smell your scent growing. He didn’t even need to smell it, though—his body understood plenty. He felt aggressive, an adrenaline rush that demanded he pounce on his prey. His cock was hard, demanding that he release it and fuck you. He couldn’t get a breath without feeling the need to corner you.

His logical brain was slipping away, but your shocked expression did manage to reach it. He couldn’t corner you. He couldn’t hold you down like an animal and take advantage of his greater strength and skill to force you. His skin crawled with the half-formed thought that reminded him of being pinned underneath his own rutting brother. He tried to hold onto that thought as the rest of his mind and body united against it.

He sent up a prayer of thanks that he was here, rather than Jesse. Jesse was a good man most of the time, but a rut could drive him to extremes. He would become even more dominant, more demanding. The cowboy demanded his dues as an alpha and usually that was a good thing that Hanzo enjoyed greatly, but you would not see that if he got a breath of your boiling scent first.

He kicked off his shoes respectfully and walked in behind you. He put a palm to your head as if to feel for a fever and you sighed in pleasure. The archer looked around your apartment and knelt in front of you. His huge hand held your shoulder and he gave you a small shake.

“Can’t you help me?” you whined. His eyes glistened sharply as he took a sniff of the hormone-laden scent that was flowing off of you. You lurched to try to lean against him, craving his touch. “Please?” He shook his head with an anxious look. You whined, twisting to try to find relief. “P-p-please. Be my alpha....”

Hanzo gulped in an anxious breath. You...thought he was an alpha? He could not imagine what gave you that idea. Had Genji said something as a perverted joke? He shuddered in echo with your trembling. He didn’t have any idea whether it would be better to pretend to be an alpha and have you himself or to take you to Jesse so that you would have the care of a real alpha or to simply back away. His body certainly wanted to surrender to this pulsing need...but was that enough to be what you needed?

“N-n-no,” he stuttered nervously. You’d be safer with Jesse—a real alpha. No—he argued in his head—you’d be terrified because Jesse was an alpha who collected his dues. Would you be better with a real alpha or with someone who understood the natural fears and anxiety of an unclaimed omega? “I...do not think you understand—.”

You sniffed his skin. There was some scent there, and it made you warm and excited. It didn’t smell like an alpha’s that you could tell, but it still settled inside you and made your blood rush in a heated throb. Confusion floated in your mind—the scent was there along his palms and down his back, but not against his neck where you thought it should be most intense. “P-p-please...c-c-can’t—can’t you,” you whispered, “be my alpha?”


	7. Chapter 7

He shook his head almost nervously. “N-n-no. You must have suppressants,” he grunted, looking into your eyes. “Can...can you tell me where they are?” You leaned into his palm. You were already sinking into the heat, shaking uncontrollably and scooting closer to him and rubbing your face into his skin like a cat. “You need to get your suppressants and take them.” He puffed out a short breath and you saw him tremble as he pulled away. He seemed to be fighting something—his nose flaring and his muscles tight as he resisted whatever he was feeling. “You do not understand. The suppressants. You need to get them before—.”

You barely realized you were praying. You stared blearily at him, your prayers foreign and terrifying. You hoped he was fighting a rut. You had never thought you’d even think that—but you prayed that he was sinking into a rut so that he could help you. He talked about your suppressants—asked you again where they were—but even you could figure out that you were too deep now for the injectors to work. And he smelled...good. You leaned against his hands, sniffing along his chest, praying that the thickening scent would tell what to do next, because suddenly Mercy’s suggestion of bonding to an alpha—this alpha—sounded pretty good.

“Well,” said a thick, southern voice from the open door. “What do we have here?”

Hanzo stiffened, looking up and the huge form that was shadowing the doorway. You managed to turn enough to see the huge cowboy in the doorway. Jesse grinned down at you, his cigar dripping out of the corner of his mouth. He took another step and his spurs jingled loudly enough to make your nerves rattle.

The archer shivered at the sight of the alpha. His mouth went dry as the cowboy stood there with his thumbs on his leather belt. What had Jesse heard so far? There was no doubting that you were in heat—not when his own body was confirming it. He narrowed his eyes slightly as Jesse took in a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips as though he was tasting something sweet.

Jesse looked down at you both, his cigarillo letting out an acrid trail of smoke. He saw Hanzo crouch protectively, moving subtly and slowly in front of you. Lord, but you were a sight—your cheeks flushed, a slight sheen of sweat, your eyes glazed, your hands shaking as you wrung them and your legs falling slightly open. He could see that your pupils were dilated and reminded him of a puppy’s anxious look. He held up his hands slightly as Hanzo growled softly, “Darlin’—it’s just me.”

Hanzo paused, trying to force himself to think through the hormonal soup he was drowning in. He wanted to give you a chance, a choice—but with the possessive look on the cowboy’s face, he wasn’t sure.... Jesse had promised to protect you from him, but could he do the same?

You were shaking, staring up at the cowboy and even more confused as the alpha scent you knew you had smelled on the archer came boiling off the cowboy. His glinting eyes smirked down at you appraisingly and he puffed out a cloud of smoke. He was no fool—he immediately knew your predicament. With shaking arms, you tried to crawl towards the small table just beside the hall closet. The suppressants were the drawer and you knew you would be better if you could just get to them.

It couldn’t possibly be too late, could it?

“Now, now, lil filly,” the cowboy drawled, grabbing a hold of your shoulder and taking in a big lungful of your scent. You moaned softly—he was an alpha and he knew exactly what you were trying to hide. His alpha scent was filling you with a terrible and eager way. “Ya wouldn’t happen to be gettin’ suppressants now, would ya?”

Jesse smirked down at you patiently. It looked like he had gotten here just in time—before the Japanese man was in too deep to stop himself. You and he were both getting desperate, though and there was no telling what would happen. The archer would mean well, but he had never been in a rut before. Hanzo had never been dealt with the rush of possessiveness, the need to control and the feral desperation of a rut. Things might be fine—you and the archer—but he felt like he owed it to you and to the omega man to at least be present in case things get out of hand.

You could only whine as Jesse gripped your shoulder and reached to open the drawer. As big as he was, it was barely a stretch. You trembled as he fiddled in the drawer and pulled out the yellow box with the injector inside.

“This is not as it appears,” Hanzo offered placatingly. Even now, in the throes of this, he felt an omega’s need to at least try to soothe the alpha as he began inevitably sliding into his rut. “She only needed help getting—.”

“Aww, hell,” Jesse smirked, examining the box before glancing at the archer. “Yer just feelin’ a bit wild ‘cause this lil filly is goin’ into heat.” The cowboy grinned stiffly at the other man, sympathy on his face. The poor omega man was not prepared for what would happen next. Not just him—you were looking as confused as the heat steadily weakened you. He took a deep breath—testing the air for your scent—and sadly realized that even if he gave the injector to you now, it wouldn’t help. He put the box in a deep pocket of his jeans. “I can smell it inside our place—with the door closed.”

Hanzo snarled, holding on to your arm protectively. Surely it wasn’t too late? But as you moaned and leaned against him, rubbing your skin against his, he dizzily realized that it was too late. It was far too late—for any of you. He stroked you gently, soothingly, and hoped that his unfamiliar needs would not overwhelm either of you. The alpha would be there, though, and there would be a balancing force—a check—against all of these instinctive urges. He nodded slightly in acceptance of the situation. It was too late—all of you were pushed too far to stop it. All that remained was to give the alpha his rightful dues and trust that he would remain in control for the duration.

Jesse snapped his fingers and you were shocked to see the archer back down silently. The archer nodded slightly and offered you a sympathetic look before going to stand just in front of Jesse. He crossed his wrists in front of him and bowed his head with a sigh. Jesse looked satisfied as he took in another deep breath and looked around.

“Now this ain’t somethin’ to do in a doorway,” the cowboy said. “So, we’ll get ya to our place and help ya how to handle yer heat proper.”

With another snap, Jesse let the archer walk out the door with a satisfied smirk. Then he came to kneel in front of you as your eyes bugged out and followed the other man. “Now, darlin’. Ya gotta listen to what I’m saying.” Your eyes were confused as you stared up at him. Timidly, you tried to reach for the box in his pocket and he chuckled. His hand brushed your forehead and you let out a keening sigh like cat. When he moved his hand, you followed it instinctively without hesitating. “Ya can’t resist. Yer already in heat, darlin’.”

No...it couldn’t be making you helpless so soon, could it? You swallowed heavily and reached for the box again. The cowboy slapped your hand and then grabbed your wrists. Before you could think, he wrapped his bandana around your wrists and was hauling you to your feet. You babbled ridiculous stuff—that you were hot, that you were sweaty, that you were scared. You even yelped that you were smelly as you felt the beading on your brow and the slick seemed to stick to your skin.

Jesse nodded slowly, brushing his hands over your skin. You were hot and sweaty and he could believe that you were scared. Hanzo always went through an anxious spell at the start of his heats, and he could believe that you were probably going through something even more extreme. He tasted the air, feeling momentarily confused as two different omega heat scents filled the air. He had never dealt with two omegas at once—never knew anyone who had—but Lord knew that both of you needed him to come up with a way now.

His face was in your neck, his scruffy beard scraping your sensitive skin as you whined again. “Ya smell just right. Just like a yer supposed to.” He pushed his hips into your side and you flinched to feel the hard tent in his heavy denim jeans. “Don’t worry about nothing. We got ya.”

You shook your head. “N-n-no. Just...need the—.” You swallowed heavily, your knees knocking and your body quaking. You hadn’t intended on attracting the attention of the cowboy. The pair of scents from the men were whirling around in a confusing muddle around you and all of it made your core throb. You gasped in a dry breath. “Need the box!”

Jesse ignored you and simply drug you out your door, slamming it and locking it with your own keys. He pocketed your keys without so much as blinking. You shuddered, your body suddenly weak and clumsy as the heat kept climbing in your body. No one could possibly see anything as his huge serape flopped around over your wrists and around your face.

Jesse pulled you along the walkway as gently as he was able. You weren’t so much struggling as you were unable to walk with him. The heat was already robbing you of strength, making you stagger and your knees go weak. You trembled as he tugged on your arm again, a soft moan making him feel even more possessive and ornery. He hoped that you were more relaxed with the archer, ‘cause right now you were knock-kneed and stumbling and stiff.

He hauled you into his apartment. You had no idea that the big man lived so close—just down the walkway two doors. He opened the door and drug you inside with a soft chuckle. You let out a soft cry, your legs buckling on the generic carpet. The cowboy let out a soft sound as he kicked the door closed and then turned to lock both the door lock and then the deadbolt. 

The archer was already there, naked to the waist and barefoot. You looked up at him dumbfounded and your parched throat could barely form your words, “H-h-hanzo? What...what are you...doing here?”

Hanzo looked at you with a vague sense of confused relief. He sighed, feeling his muscles clench nervously and a jumpy feeling all through his body. You had probably even less idea of what was actually happening than he did. At least he had the scant information from Jesse’s internet search to point him in the right direction. You didn’t get that far—you thought he was an alpha for heaven’s sake—and so were probably truly bewildered. Heaven only knew what kind of sense you were making of the confusion of scents that were boiling in the room.

The cowboy answered from behind you instead, “Aww...he’s just a friend, darlin’.” Jesse sauntered past you to go stand behind the archer. Slowly, to your shock, his hand slung around the smaller man’s shoulder to wrap around his neck. Hanzo swallowed heavily—hard enough that the fingers around his throat rippled. “And he’s gonna be your friend, too—gonna help you with that little heat problem of yours.”

“Wh-what?!” That was all that came out as you watched Jesse pull down the loose pants of the archer. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the Japanese man’s ruddy cock, your mouth falling open hungrily. Jesse’s face came over Hanzo’s shoulder with a leering smirk and the thick cigar almost brushing the archer’s thick neck. You swallowed heavily again as the glowing cigar dropped a pile of almost white ash onto the smaller man’s chest.

Jesse saw you grow pale, heard you gasp. You stared at him and then the pile of ash. For a second, it looked like you were about to scream. He chuckled softly. The pale ash was practically cool to the touch and this was one of the games that they played during heats—but you couldn’t know that yet. His alpha instincts said that you’d be up for whatever games he wanted as your heat kept ramping up.

Hanzo did not flinch, only looked at you silently as you huddled on the floor. He did not move as the cowboy gripped his hard cock, stroking the shaft in front of you. Your eyes were riveted as a few pearls of liquid dripped out of his cock. His eyes were glued to your helpless body on the carpet.

You stared at them both timidly, looking up at the ruddy cock as the cowboy kept stroking it. It was more confusing as your mind tried to process the cocktail of hormones floating around you. You trembled wearily as you kept watching—what was going on and why was there two of them? You took in another breath and it failed to make you feel any steadier. Instead, it only made you more confused and ratchet up your heat even more.

Hanzo stood there calmly—a rock in the confusing heat. He gave you an small and soothing smirk before closing his eyes and letting out a blissful gasp. You watched as he seemed to grow more enthralled, his hips beginning to rock forward slightly into Jesse’s fist. He was flushed and you saw he was beginning to sweat. He tried to smile, to offer you encouragement, but this was only the beginning and he hoped that you would understand that this was only the cowboy satisfying his own alpha needs before he satisfied the demanding heats in front of him.

The archer licked his lips at you as Jesse stroked him harder. He had never, ever, appreciated these games like this before—never had the ability to detect how satisfying they were or how arousing they might be to an omega. Now he could, though. He could tell that you were getting aroused. He could smell it, taste it in the air as you moaned on the floor. He could finally feel the heady rush and the desire to hunt and claim for himself. He had never felt like this before, never had the ability to feel it before. He couldn’t feel this way before, couldn’t understand it before, and now he could feel the utterly beautiful and compelling need to hunt for himself.

Jesse grinned as Hanzo began to crouch. The archer shifted forward on the balls of his feet, his eyes narrowing as they focused on your flushed face. The cowboy gripped the omega man’s shoulder gently with his free hand, tugging him back a half step. He had sparred with the man enough to know when he was starting to drop his weight, to spread his feet to a stable shoulder-width or so apart, his stomach tightening. The omega man tossed his head suddenly like a half-broken stallion, his hair flying in an oily arc over his shoulder. Jesse smirked, gripping him tighter on both his cock and his shoulder, and enjoying the heady feeling of holding a tiger by the tail.

You saw Hanzo crouching slowly, his eyes riveted to you. Images of wolves hunched with the fur on their backs standing up and cougars crouched to leap for the kill filled your mind. In that instant, you were a little afraid of him. But then your eyes went to the cowboy, the large eyes calmer and still hot as he watched you watching Hanzo. Finally you stammered, “W-w-what’s going on?”

Jesse seemed to ignore your question as he pulled the archer’s pants back up to his waist. “Han, why don’t you take a breather for a spell?” He reached over to a drawer and drew out a length of thick, blue cord. Hanzo slowly slid his wrists behind him and the cowboy took delight in flicking the cord round and round as he tied Hanzo’s wrists. Jesse pushed Hanzo until you saw the bound wrists behind his back with it long tail of blue rope. “There, now. All tied up.”

Jesse took in a deep breath as the archer accepted his authority, submitted to his clumsy knots. The archer’s aggression was unexpected in one sense and perfectly understandable in another sense. He was torn between wanting to keep the archer from springing on you quite yet and not wanting to waste an instant of what might be the only chance the archer might have to ever feel like this. He frowned, trying to make sense of everything and to clear his head enough to even try to give you a choice. He stroked the knots, tugged them gently, to make sure that they wouldn’t slip or anything. It about killed him to bind his omega, but he didn’t dare let things get out of hand.

He spared you a look as you sprawled on the floor. You looked adorable now, and his alpha soul saw you in a few months’ time with your belly swollen with children. His cock throbbed as he thought about beautiful little girls and handsome little boys a rainbow of eye colors and hair in a variety of colors from Hanzo’s rich black to his own oak brown curly mop to your hair color. He could almost hear them calling, crying and cooing. He was sure that they would all be cute little rascals. He glanced down at the archer as he knelt there, saw that they other man’s eyes were trained on you, his teeth bared and his nostrils flaring impatiently.

“Go on ahead and get down to the floor,” Jesse murmured.

The archer closed his eyes and knelt down so slowly it could not help but be graceful. As soon as his knees touched the carpet, his attention again on you. You flushed, gasping and scrambling to your knees before falling again to your sprawl on the floor. Your eyes darted between his and Hanzo’s with the speed of a bird hunted by two cats.

Hanzo looked at you and knew the only thing that was driving the thoughts of roly-poly children out of his head was the intense drive to claim you. He had never felt like this before, never felt the need to fight forward and forward and forward and thrust into the cunt he could smell dripping from here. His cock grated against the tight seam of his pants, making him feel even harder and more desperate for any sort of friction.

Jesse let out chuckle and stood in front of the archer. The smaller man deserved a reward for playing this game, for obeying his commands in front of you. Usually, the archer would buck the slightest, smallest request the alpha made simply to be ornery. He never wanted to show weakness or the slightest submissiveness in front of others. The cowboy would have bet his last dollar that Hanzo would have fought back even harder because you were watching. Instead, he simply panted, sweating on the carpet—his attention riveted back on you.

Your mouth went dry, heat rushing in your ears as Jesse unbuckled his heavy belt and undid his pants. The infamous belt buckle flashed in the light as it rattled and you shivered to hear the heavy sound of a zipper. It made you gape wordlessly. Jesse shot you a grin as he tugged down his cotton underwear far enough to slide under his cock and balls, and you flushed and looked away before looking back at him. The cowboy’s cock was unbelievably big as he pulled it out right at the archer’s face.

“Just a lil reward,” Jesse sighed down at the other man. “Just a lil bit.” He looked over at you with a growl. “Don’t want to blow my load before we take care of that little filly’s heat.”

The archer shuddered, but nodded in agreement. The words “pups”, “children”, “heat” and “rut” kept running together in his mind and chasing each other until they ran together like slushy snow mixing with mud. You were looking scared now, watching him timidly and obviously confused and trying to figure out what was going on. He smirked slightly, feeling the blood rushing in his veins like melted chocolate. He would obey for now, his omega instincts to submit to the alpha coming to the fore. Besides, his submission—his temporary submission—would allow Jesse to be able to show you how gentle he truly was—as long as he wasn’t determined to be an ass during this cycle.

Hanzo nodded towards the cowboy silently, his mouth falling open. Jesse took a hold of Hanzo’s precise top knot and tugged his face forward. With a wet slurp, Hanzo took the cowboy’s cock in his mouth and began pumping his head up and down.

Jesse nodded with a smile, flicking his cigar again over the kneeling man’s skin. Another blob of gray ash hit skin with whisper of sound and Jesse puffed out a cloud thick smoke. Hanzo’s eyes were dark and sensual—unalarmed and sensually relaxed in a way that made you envious and a hot feeling kick in your guts. Finally, Jesse grunted, tugging on Hanzo’s hair and stepping back. Instantly, Hanzo’s head bent. His thick cock bobbed out in front of him as he walked over to you.

“Now for you,” he grunted, pulling you to your feet again.

Your heat had taken over your body, making you weak and all but helpless as the cowboy pushed you to stand against the wall. You moaned to feel the cool plaster against your hot skin. You tried to talk, but all that came out was a whisper. “Please...the box.”

Jesse hummed, wrapping a hand around your neck to keep you standing against the wall. He pulled out the yellow box from his pocket. “This lil thing?” He studied your desperate face with a smirk. “Now why would ya want this?”

Jesse sucked in another breath. You were ramping up in your heat, growing more feverish and desperate. He reckoned quite soon you wouldn’t care what happened to you, but there was the small matter of your injectors. You would reach for them every so often and he would bat your hand away only to have you glance nervously around and then reach for it again. A thought of pups bloomed in his head as your hips thrust curiously forward. He glanced at your groin as you twisted in his grip, his breath hissing in and out and everything feeling hot and heavy.

Your mouth moved, but couldn’t say anything as he dropped it to the floor. With one stomp, he drove the thick heel of his cowboy boot into the box. You heard a sickening crunch and let out a whine. He stomped hard again and you heard plastic shatter.

Hanzo watched you both as silently as he could in his feverish state. He lapped his lips as the box hit the ground, letting out a soft whine as the crushing plastic cracked in the apartment. He rolled his hips slightly, letting his cock scrape against the thin seam in his pants. He spread his knees a bit more, stretching his pants even tighter across his cock. Jesse spared him a smirk before turning back to you—and Hanzo grinned maliciously as he realized that Jesse was as deeply captivated by his rut as he was by his heat.

“Why would ya think ya need some stupid chemical when ya got the two of us to get ya through yer heat?” Jesse stomped one more time on the ruined box, his normal friendly eyes sharp and almost crazed as he inhaled your scent. “Now I think ya need ta be a little nicer to people who only want ta help you.”

The cowboy ripped at your uniform. You whimpered, your face red as he peeled them off and you all but helped him. Your heat made everything hurt, your skin flushed and prickling painfully. He tossed the clothes to the side and drug you away from the pile. Your futile efforts to fight only made him chuckle slightly. Even you knew it was only a matter of time now before the heat made you helpless and animalistic.

He brought you, stumbling, to stand in front of the archer. The cowboy leaned you against his body, nudging your legs apart by pushing your feet apart. Hanzo’s face lifted, his face nuzzling your leaking crotch and his mouth buried in the trail of slick down your thighs.

“That’s nice, Han,” the cowboy cooed. “Can’t you just smell how nice that heat is?”

“Hai, masuta,” Hanzo whispered in a husky voice.

“Then, lick it up,” Jesse ordered.

“Hai, masuta,” Hanzo whispered.

You practically collapsed as the kneeling man’s tongue began going up and down your skin along the insides of your thighs. He lapped at your skin, dragging from your knees to your hungry core. You moaned, shivering in Jesse’s grip as your legs unwillingly spread further. Your knees were buckling and Jesse was the only thing keeping you standing as the archer’s tongue dipped into your slick.

Hanzo grinned up at the your two faces. He could see your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed and your cheeks flushing. You smelled perfect as slick dripped out of you. He couldn’t help but lap at your sacred core—where the children he wanted would grow. You whined and it was music to his ears as he dug his tongue in farther.

“Oh, g-g-g—! Just...please,” you whispered helplessly.

“That’s good, Han,” Jesse nodded, smirking in approval. “You keep her heat going.”

“Hai, masuta,” he muttered against your skin in pleasure. Instantly, he went back to your throbbing core. He licked your thighs, cleaning up the slick that seemed to be pouring out of you. His tongue drug from your ass to your clit. Then it dipped, slopping inside you, and you moaned as he seemed drink down your slick.

You bucked helplessly, curling and writhing is the large cowboy’s grip as the archer kept lapping at your sensitive skin. You could feel your the hot, messy stuff weeping out of your core and the archer’s lips kept probing, his lips sliding into your slit and lolling around your clit. All of your limbs flailed helplessly, knocking around and buckling and you couldn’t get a grip on anything.

“That’s enough, Han,” Jesse hummed softly. “I’ll lay her down now. Gotta do some stuff.”

You whined as the cowboy lowered you down on the carpet a bit away from the archer. Your body was heating up and stealing every bit of strength from your limbs and without the big man’s strength, you would have collapsed. The rough carpet grated against your skin almost painfully. You heard the cowboy’s smooth drawl behind you and you could barely turn to see him leaning back against the wall with a communicator in his hand.

“...an’ she’s in heat right now. Yeah. Not gonna be around for a while, so we need an excuse. Ya gonna tell Mercy an’ her team lead? Thank ya kindly.” A pause and you whined painfully. “Yeah, she’s gonna be with me an’ I’ll be takin’ care o’ her with Han’s help....”

Your eyes went wide in a dizzy way and you looked at Hanzo. The archer was still kneeling on the carpet, his hands tied behind him. His eyes were dark and hooded and his face was flushed. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin as if it had been oiled. You rolled over a bit to try to drag your body to him.

“C-c-can you help me?” you whispered. “I-I-I...I—.” You licked your dry lips, swallowing hard with your throat dry and scratchy. You were completely confused at the scent coming from him now, but you craved relief so much you didn’t care. “It...hurts.”

He said nothing, just watched you with a needy expression. You gulped in a dizzy breath and tried to roll, to crawl. He grinned wickedly, his breath growing shallower as you drug yourself to him. You grabbed a hold of him, struggled to get a grip of him. Jesse made another call and you both ignored him as you wriggled to straddle Hanzo’s hips. You plopped across his lap, your legs wrapping around him. His covered cock was a harsh ridge and you couldn’t resist grinding your core on it. He snarled wordlessly as your slick soaked his pants, wriggling and bucking to get try and get more of the friction you both craved.

“Please,” you whined as you slid shamelessly on him. “I need.... It hurts so much and...and I need...an alpha.”

Hanzo’s eyes went wide and he sucked in a surprised breath. He licked his lips, his eyes smoldering and dark. He twisted slightly. “B-b-but....” He glanced up at Jesse unsteadily, rolling his wrists slightly behind him. He glanced up as the cowboy kept talking and you could see him shuddering. 

A restless and heated demand flushed through him as you rocked on his lap. So you still thought he was an alpha? He lapped at your neck. He could be an alpha for an hour, could lay you down and slide into you and satisfy your greedy body. His smile turned dark and smug and smoldering as you whined in his ear. He could drive into you and feel you scream and clench down as he poured his seed into your body. A heat like this was practically a hallmark of high fertility and he could have his own small family, untainted by the curse of the Shimada yakuza, at last.

The archer twisted in the bindings—testing them as you shifted to grind against his thigh. Jesse noticed and scowled before giving a sharp sign to stop. Hanzo tossed his hair and began rutting back against you. If the cowboy was going to take forever, then he couldn’t blame anyone but himself if you and the archer paired up first, right? The alpha seemed to read both of your minds and he gestured angrily again. You were too far gone to notice and the archer was only a step behind you. Jesse glowered as he nodded at whoever he was talking to and Hanzo scowled before backing down. You gave Hanzo a mewl and a pleading look, mouthing “alpha...my alpha...alpha...” against his skin over and over again. Hanzo shook himself a little, glancing up at the other man before bitterly backing down. He finally whispered, “Y-y-you do not...know—.”

Jesse hung up his call and strode over to you. Without slowing down, he gripped your body and slid you off of the other man’s lap. “Now, lil girl, let’s get this all straightened out.” You looked up at him, dizzy from the delirium of the heat. Hanzo growled and snapped his teeth furiously, but did not otherwise move. “Yer just gonna have ta understand a few things.”

Hanzo let out a whine as the cowboy stalked around him and Jesse caressed the smaller man’s broad shoulders. You were surprised to see the archer’s eyes fluttered closed and his head loll back. The cowboy smirked and stroked his fingers along the archer’s jaw, only to have Hanzo open his mouth and start sucking noisily on the glove covered fingers.

Abruptly, Hanzo felt swamped. The drive to get to you was suddenly overcome with his own weakening heat, the intense need to offer himself up to the true alpha. His mind kept ricocheting back and forth between a drive to conquer you and an equally strong need to submit to the alpha man. The two of you were crushing him between your opposing needs. He sobbed around the cowboy’s gloved fingers, wanting both and unable to do either.

“See, darlin’?” Jesse smirked at you around his short stub of cigar. Jesse sucked in a deep breath and his eyes seemed to glow in anticipation. “He’s gonna get pushed into his heat.” You dizzily looked at Hanzo and the huge wet spot on his pants. “In fact, he might already be there.”

“H-h-his...heat?” you whispered. Hanzo moaned and his face turned red. You both shuddered at the thick smells that boiled around you all and filled the apartment. “An omega?”

Jesse nodded his head. “An’ yer a zenith omega.”

You couldn’t stop trembling. Instinctively, your legs were spreading and you could smell a musky spiciness in the air. The maddening smell was filthy and filling you to drag you into your desperate animal state. But it wasn’t the just heavy scent of an alpha, but of an omega as well. “N-n-no.”

Hanzo let out a breathless whine at your soft protest. His eyes cracked open slightly as he turned slightly and sucked more of the cowboy’s fingers in his mouth. Jesse only grinned and began rubbing the massive shoulders of the archer.

Jesse stared at you, feeling a nudge of regret. All his alpha senses knew exactly how this was going to end up. You and Hanzo both were in heat now, entering the clawing and desperate state that would quite soon bring every available alpha in the area right to his door. You might not like it, but you needed him. Hell, you probably needed Hanzo, too, as your heat would only treble more and more until you got what you needed and his every instinct said that you needed, first and foremost to be truly bred until you were filled with children.

You wailed and your fingers slid down between your legs. Your slick was thick and had smeared all over your inner thighs. A zenith omega? You strangely remembered your high school biology.

An apex alpha was the alpha’s alpha—the top of the sexual food chain. Apex alphas were rare and beautifully adapted to getting what they wanted—physically strong, always dominating and highly sexual with needs that exceeded other alphas. They took what they wanted, when they wanted and heaven help you if you didn’t agree with their demands.

At the other far end of the spectrum was the zenith omega. Zeniths were supposed to be extremely rare and all the stories said that they would get heats so intense that they couldn’t move and that could push even another omega into heat, let alone putting an alpha into a rut. Zenith omegas were supposed to be receptive to anyone—alpha, apex, beta or omega—and hell, you couldn’t stand the overheated thought of being a victim to everyone around you. That’s what being an omega was, wasn’t it? To be claimed by whoever walked by?

“N-n-no,” you whispered softly. “N-n-not...a zenith.”

Jesse hummed and put his cigar out on a nearby ashtray. He caressed Hanzo again and smirked more when the archer’s back arched and a moan slid out of his mouth. “Well, my lil omega here’s gonna just have ta disagree.”

Hanzo’s eyes were still heavily hooded and he bit his lip. His knees parted and you could see how hard he was, his pants straining and a distinct wet spot on the seam. His shoulders rolled as he wrestled with the binding on his wrists. He muttered something you couldn’t quite make out—a heavily accented jumble of words in a needy whine.

He knew that he was lost as the words tumbled out of him. He wanted to explain, to make sense. But his heat was throbbing in him. It was heat now—definitely heat—that made him warble his submission. Distantly, he thought that maybe if you saw him submit—witnessed his heat—you might be less afraid. Even in this state, he could discern the scent of your fear. He remembered being afraid of anything and everything in his heats. Perhaps watching Jesse with him would help ease your fears?

But the damned cowboy was driving him insane at the same time. The leather gloves that he adored, the gloves he had suckled and licked a hundred times, were in his mouth. The scent of leather and the faint smell gunpowder and gun oil mixed with arousal and flooded him with even more arousal. His eyes glittered at you around the fingers in his mouth, and just as much as he wanted to present to the alpha, he wanted you to do the same. The unfamiliar rush of even his half-rut made him even wilder.

Jesse waggled a finger at you. “Now, darlin’. Ya see what a mess ya made of him?” Kneeling behind the archer, Jesse wrapped his metal fingers around his neck and then reached around around to grip the Hanzo’s cock. “An’ yer heat’s just startin’.” He grinned wickedly. “Which means his heat’s just startin’ too.”

You shook, your fingers dipping into your sopping core restlessly. Hanzo scowled, his teeth gritting as his head rolled back. His chest heaved as he panted in your heat scented air. He glared at you through slitted eyes and his muscles clenched as he stared at you. He made an intoxicating picture of restrained power and heat-addled lust as he curled and lurched towards you.

Jesse grunted and pulled him back with a grin. “Yeah...sure, yer not a zenith.” He murmured in the bound man’s ear and Hanzo growled low in his throat. “You just keep believin’ that.” He stood up and tugged on the archer’s shoulder one more time. “Now, Han, jus’ be patient. Like my pappy said, good things come to those who wait.”

Hanzo only growled in response and bucked forward again. It made you writhe on the floor in front of him as his attention was riveted to you. Slick dribbled out from your core and you let out a helpless cry. Your fingers weren’t enough. Your stroking and pinching wasn’t enough to get your heat out of your veins. And the archer pinned you to the floor with his hungry gaze.

You whined with fear at the sudden movement, the possessive growling as Hanzo struggled against Jesse. You struggled weakly to pull yourself away, but your heat was sapping all of your strength. How were you to get away when your entire body wanted only to be knotted and bred? Jesse tugged one more time with a sharp word and while Hanzo did settle, you flinched at his uncharacteristic aggression. Jesse stroked his skin, massaging him lightly and grinned possessively at you. “Han gets really riled during his heats.” The cowboy cocked his head and smirked. “But I’d say it’s yer scent that is makin’ it worse—zenith.”

You shook your head again, too drained to do more. “N-n-no...please, no.”

“Darlin’, we got ya,” Jesse hissed as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it carelessly away. The hat floated to one side and your eyes went wide as the immense belt buckle flashed when he tugged on it. The leather whistled out of his belt loops and seemed to coil into his fist like a lariat. “We’ll take care o’ ya.”

You smelled a new fragrance as the cowboy stripped off his clothes—spicy and musky and herbal. The rut scent that your body craved was steaming off of him. The fragrance bloomed in the air, developing amber and vanilla and whiskey notes and every bit of it sank and made your core throb. With your wrists bound by the bandana, you couldn’t rub hard enough, fast enough, to get relief. It was worse to have the archer staring at you like a hungry wolf and licking his lips.

The cowboy was naked before you knew it and was kneeling next to you. A huge, wicked grin was on his face as he slid a thick finger in your slit. “Yer heat’s just startin’, too.” You shook your head wildly, but you couldn’t stop your legs from falling open at the lightest graze of his calloused fingers. “So we got lots of time, don’t we?”

Hanzo growled harshly as you whined. “P-p-please!” You gasped in a shaky breath. “I can’t take it anymore!”

Jesse laughed and took his huge cock in his hand. Your eyes goggled at the huge dick, the shiny and crisp brown curls at the base, and the immense hand stroking it. He gripped your breast in the other hand, squeezing it and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers. “Can’t take it anymore?” He laughed softly. “Yer gonna get satisfied—don’t worry none.”

You nodded, curling upward to try to drive his finger inside you and he only pulled it away. You watched with disbelieving eyes as he walked back over to Hanzo. The cowboy patted the archer absently, unconcerned when the other man growled again and turned to snap his teeth at the rough fingers. “Stand on up, Han,” Jesse ordered sharply. Hanzo growled and lurched to his feet with the cowboy’s help. The suntanned fingers of the cowboy tugged lightly on the other man’s pants, dragging them down. He didn’t even stop as the elastic drug down Hanzo’s erection before snapping and letting the hard cock bob up. “There ya go.”

Jesse’s blazing brown eyes peered at you over the smaller man’s shoulder as the archer stepped out of his pants. You whined again as you saw the glistening slick coming down Hanzo’s inner thighs and the wet tip of his cock. He still scowled at you, a shiver going down his spine as Jesse stroked his dick in a massive hand. “Still think yer not a zenith?”

You helplessly watched as Jesse bent the archer forward. Your eyes went wide to see how easily the cowboy was able to slide his cock right into Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo growled wordlessly as his knees almost buckled and he staggered a step to get balanced. A thick shot of liquid burst from the smaller man’s ruddy cock as Jesse began roughly pumping. Hanzo cursed angrily as his eyes screwed shut and his head dropped. Jesse bucked hard and Hanzo cursed more as he came, his cock jerking hard and the heady seed landing on your legs.

Jesse stroked the archer’s flanks and then popped his ass with a smile. Hanzo shuddered and dropped to one knee with another harsh curse. Your eyes went wide to Jesse’s cock as it glistened with the other omega’s slick. He casually took a tissue and wiped off and your mouth went dry at the sight of the swelling knot at the base of his cock.

“Now it’s yer turn,” he promised as he walked over to you. He raised an eyebrow and grinned wickedly. “Still think yer not a zenith? Not a zenith that you can make another omega go inta heat?” He glanced at the panting archer behind him and then back at you. “Yeah...ya are.”

You whined and tugged at the bandana. Jesse knelt between your legs, humming at your eager clamping down on his cock as he pushed. He pushed in a bit further and you shuddered to feel even that tip stretching you out. “Yer an omega in heat,” Jesse smiled as he took hold of the bandana and stretched your arms over your head. “An’ yer in such a deep zenith heat you’ll give it up to anyone—even another omega—an’ ya won’t even care.”

“N-n-no!” you howled. “Not—not!” You couldn’t help it, you bucked upward in protest. The cowboy’s cock seemed to pulse as you unintentionally drove him in deeper. “Not a...a...zenith!”

With a laugh, Jesse slid forward, going in deeper. Your eyes crossed as he stretched you out further. It burned slightly, making you hiss as the stretch seemed to fill you. With a slick sound he pushed forward again. Unbelievably, he managed to slide further in with a laugh. He pulled back and slid forward again a little deeper.

“Ya ain’t never taken a monster dick like this, have ya?” Jesse chuckled as you writhed underneath him. You wildly shook your head again and he pushed deeper again. “Yer doin’ good. Just take my cock.” Hanzo growled behind you both and Jesse looked over his shoulder. “Hold on, Han—I’m almost all in.”

You wailed and bucked up again and were surprised to find him in completely sheathed. “You’re too...too big?”

“I’m all in,” Jesse growled, starting to pump back and forth. “An’ yer gonna be takin’ my knot, real soon.”

You shook your head, but his huge cock was exactly the answer to what you needed. Your legs clumsily wrapped around his hips and you struggled to thrust up. You gasped as his tip scraped the base of your womb and his next powerful thrust made you see stars. Your core pulsed around him and you screamed his name as the heat ratcheted up even more. He laughed harshly and slammed into you.

“Hellfire, Han,” he gasped, gritting his teeth. He pushed down, growling as your hips slammed against the floor. “Yer not gonna last a Texas second in her.”

That made your heat addled brain catch fire. Nothing had ever felt as fulfilling as the cowboy kept pumping. His tongue lapped at your neck and shoulders. Your core pulsed, vibrating practically, around his hard and thrusting cock. Your whine became a shrill cry as you curled up, struggling to find your release as you teetered on the edge. His hands shifted, curling around your shoulders and gripping them with punishing force as he slammed into you that one last time before the heat burst over you and you came screaming.

Jesse pulled back in a rush that left you shaking with the sudden chill. You stared up at the hard knot at the base of his cock, the thick line of slick in a rope between your core and him. He smirked as you whimpered and then slid to one side. Casually, he pulled your wrists and arms tightly above your head again, gripping the knotted bandana in his huge fist.

Jesse jutted his chin towards the archer. You followed his gaze. Hanzo was curled up, looking like a furious bulldog with his shoulders bunched and his eyes blazing and dark. All of him—every muscle—was tensed and focused on you as you laid there. At another nod from the larger man, he crawled forward. His cock was ruddy and it thrust forward like it was aching to reach you.

He leaned down, his eyes locked onto yours as his face dipped between your legs. You screamed again as his tongue pushed into your core again, lapping up everything it could reach. Your hips jerked wildly against his face, whining and whimpering hoarsely. With noisy gulps, he ground forward, pushing with his legs as his tongue kept diving into you. With a toss of his head and a deep growl, his lips latched onto your aching clit.

You rolled your head, thrashing wildly as his teeth teased the oversensitive bundle of nerves. It made you jerk uncontrollably and tears came to your eyes each time that his tongue brushed it. “P-p-please no. NOnonono....no,” you whined.

“Ahh, hell darlin’,” Jesse crooned. “We’re just startin’.” His big hand practically covered your belly. “We’ve been wantin’ ta start a family, haven’t we, Han?” Hanzo growled again, looking like a Rottweiler over a bone. “An’ yer gonna look just great all puffed up with our pups.”

You shuddered, jerking against the bandana wildly. Hanzo’s tongue slid back into your core, making it throb. “P-p-pups,” was all you managed to get out before Hanzo’s talented tongue thrust inside again.

You were, in your heat addled way, considering it. Your children would be impossible—with the archer’s determined discipline and the cowboy’s adorable evasiveness. Coffee dark eyes underneath a mop of your own reckless hair and its hopeless cowlicks? You even imagined an exotic looking pup with soft brown eyes and stick straight waterfall of hair the color of a raven’s wing.

So, while the tongue and lips tormenting you was talented and making you writhe helplessly, you knew you wanted more. Heat or not, rut or not—whatever he was and whatever you were and whatever Jesse was—you needed to be filled with a strong cock.

“Yer doin’ good, Han,” Jesse praised smugly. “Why don’t I let ya get busy doin’ her right?”

Your heat made thinking just about impossible. You could only watch as the cowboy leaned around and yanked on the blue cord. It whizzed as the archer’s arms stretched, his muscles bunched and burst free. Immediately, his arms whipped around to grab you. One hand planted on top of your shoulder and the other hand wrapped firmly around your throat.

Unleashed, Hanzo pulled himself up and slid into you with a vicious thrust that slickly rammed into your core. His face was fierce as he leaned more on the hand on your shoulder. You whined, writhing, as he pinned you beneath him, his hips pounding forward lightning fast. Your heat rose at his absolute dominance and you were startled to find your hips stuttering up to try to meet his punishing rhythm.

With a breathless start, you felt the archer’s small knot. As an omega, his knot was far smaller than the alpha’s, but it still scraped your sensitive core raw. In the next push, it was inside you, making that sweet clench of muscles at your entrance pulse. Your legs fumbled and pumped your hips up. He smiled tightly with a clench of his jaw as you worked your hips up and down.

“Han’s heats make him very...aggressive,” Jesse commented lazily, stroking his own cock. You yelped wordlessly. “And it appears he just loves getting into a submissive piece of ass.” 

Hanzo’s eyes flickered to the side and his snarl echoed in your ears with the obscene sound of his cock driving into you. Then he stared down at you and fucked you harder. You couldn’t get in a deep breath as he kept pumping.

Oh God, he was giving you what you needed...and what you wanted. He was beautiful like this—his face frozen in a snarl as he kept going. You needed him to do this, and you wanted to be claimed like this too. How long had you wanted this? You couldn’t even remember this morning beyond watching him briefly. But his rhythmic pumping was exactly what you needed right this moment. You wailed softly and licked his skin softly.

“Ya know, yer sure responsive to another omega,” Jesse hissed into your ear.

You couldn’t answer that honestly—that you were loving this, needing this, waiting for this your whole life. Wasn’t that just begging for a lifetime of being thrown around as someone needed a receptive omega? You sure as hell didn’t want that—you had a life to live and things to do.

“N-no. N-n-n-not! NOT!” The last was shouted as Hanzo growled and pounded into you. His fingers rippled around your throat. You gasped instinctively at the implied threat in his grasp. The adrenaline made your blood burn and your muscles clamp. “N-n-n-not...zenith.”

Jesse nodded soothingly. Every omega he had ever run across had denied their needs. Hell, he had been with Hanzo for years still heard it during every heat. He knew it was hard to admit this kind of deep need—he saw it every time his omega went into heat—and that it could make grown men quake in their boots. He knew a heat was a fearful thing to go through, but, still, you could enjoy this. Maybe even enjoy it enough that you wouldn’t demand their heads—and maybe even the little heads—on a silver platter when this was done.

Jesse hummed with a shrug. “Ya know, Han—I heard that a zenith’s neck is so sensitive during the heat that they cum when they get bit.”

Hanzo’s grip slid from your throat to slam his fist beside your head. Immediately, he bucked hard and made you yelp as his teeth grazed your throat. You shook your head with a soft cry, but you could feel the scrape nudging you closer. He took his time—unexpectedly gently rubbing his teeth up and down as though choosing the best place—and then bit.

You shrieked as you came, convulsing around him and thrashing wildly. He growled and loved the scream, the sound vibrating against your throat and filling your ears. His teeth clenched tight and you could feel him pumping and shooting into you. Stars filled your vision as you felt him slowly release you, his hips grinding against you one last time.

Jesse crooned wordlessly in your ear. Hanzo pulled back from you taking in deep panting breaths as his his hips stayed locked in yours. He gasped in a deep breath, panting and shaking the sweat from his face. A heavy lock of black hair fell in his face as he looked up at the ceiling.

He cursed fluidly, softly. He pumped in one more hard time. “Pups...pups...pups,” he whispered, his hips moving forward slightly in time with his words.

Jesse grinned down at you. “Yeah...lots of pups,” he whispered as he brushed a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Lots and lots of pups.”

The archer leaned back, stretching and curling erotically as he backed up. The cowboy touched your core, scraping up a bit of the thick seed and dragging it to your mouth. Shoving his fingers inside, he smirked as your tongue wrapped around them.

“Thatta girl,” the cowboy praised. “Now yer gonna need ta do a bit more.”

You shook your head weakly, still sucking on his fingers. “N-n-nnn,” you mumbled.

Jesse’s smile grew wider as he nudged the archer aside. The smaller man grinned at you and then at the alpha before scooting aside with a catlike move. Pulling his hand back, he scooped underneath your knees, bending your legs. Then he pulled on your neck, pushing your face into his chest.

His scent filled your nose, your lungs. He was in his rut—deep in his rut—and the scent was all over his skin and now filling you. You were shaking—your heat had gone down, surely?—but his scent was harder and harder to ignore, making you buck. Unexpectedly, he slid into you.

“Yer gonna do just fine,” Jesse smirked.

You shook your head again with a whine. Exhaustion weighed you down as he slid back and forth. Sweat was so thick on your skin, you were chilled. The alpha sliding in and out smiled as you trembled.

Jesse grinned at you, licking your earlobe. You were doing great—fantastic—during this whole thing. Your heat was going to beat at you for a week and you were taking the archer and him like a champ. He felt confident in you in a way he hadn’t felt with anyone but Hanzo. Yeah, you were tired, but just a little more....

“Just one more an’ you can rest,” the cowboy promised.

“N-n-n-no! I...I can’t!” Your whine was desperate. “I...I need to rest. Water!”

Jesse smirked and pushed hard into you. His knot was so much bigger than the archer’s and you ached as you felt it nudge your entrance. The heat had died down, leaving you in a virtual puddle of your slick. Your muscles ached and trembled and the slight burn in your core now simply hurt.

“P-p-please—let me rest,” you begged him.

The archer shivered to hear your entreaties. You were tired. You had done so well to take him and the sound of your pleasure still rang in his ears. You deserved to rest, didn’t you? He shook and prayed. Just a little more and the alpha would cum and you could get some well deserved rest. But you were shaking and sweat pooled on your skin—how much more could you take?

Hanzo’s deep voice interrupted, “Perhaps we should...should rest—.”

Jesse growled and snapped at the other omega. Startled, Hanzo backed up, his eyes dark and wide. The cowboy pushed hard and you arched your back, whimpering. Instantly, his attention was back on you and he ground his whole body against yours.

The cowboy was covered with dark brown hair and it stung as it drug over your oversensitive skin. You whined as the scrape breathed flames into your heat. Jesse’s rut scent filled you. You rolled desperately, digging your fingers into the carpet. “Just...just let me go.”

“You don’t really want that, now do ya?” he laughed. Suddenly, he pressed down on you. His whole weight seemed to drop on top of you, pinning you down without effort. Your breath whuffed out and you couldn’t move. He grinned at you one more time before he bit down on your neck. Yes—that made you burst into startling flame again. Your voice raised into a thready cry and felt his knot brush your entrance again.

He pulled back and bit down on you again. The pain lit you up. Heat went boiling through your blood. Jesse pushed hard and the knot squelched past your rim and into you. He laughed hard enough that you could feel his knot jerk inside you. He rocked back and forth, his cock stretching you out again with an electric burn. You clenched hard as his tip scraped the deepest part of your core. He growled and you felt your eyes clench closed as your last, weary climax burned through you. The cowboy rocked forward one more time and gasped as he painted your trembling insides with white, thick, alpha seed.

He shook one more time and moved his hands to your hips. With a gentle roll, he got you on top of him. You collapsed against his hair covered chest, your eyes closed and trembling in the chilly sweat. “See, darlin’?” he panted. “Knew ya could do it.”

Hanzo crept around the stretched out cowboy and you were relieved to see that he had a washcloth and a large glass of water. You let out a moan as you struggled to sit up. The archer shrugged a large shoulder under you and propped you up enough that he could hold the glass while you drank the water. He wiped you down with the cloth, making you feel marginally less messy.

Hanzo smirked and let the washcloth drop to the alpha’s stomach. “Yow!” Jesse howled as the cold hit his skin. You found it a blessing as the knot suddenly went down and the archer was able to help pull you off and lay you down on the floor. “Ya did that on purpose!”

Hanzo only gave him a sly smile and curled up next to you. Jesse cursed softly under his breath and sat up. The archer lapped your skin with his tongue as Jesse stalked out of the room to toss the washcloth aside and get cleaned up.

You yawned, wriggling to curl up on the carpet next to the warm bulk of the man behind you. Hanzo purred into your ear, “Sometimes even an alpha needs to be reminded to take care of an omega.” He shrugged slightly. “And a cold washcloth can help if he’s...ah...stuck.”

You nodded silently, your eyes closing comfortably. He remained curled up protectively around you. Just his silent presence made things seem infinitely more normal and more soothing. You smirked to feel him yawn into your skin.

Hanzo felt a shiver go down his back. Now that his heat was in a lull, he too, could think more clearly. He had blatantly taken advantage of your heat. He had let Jesse take advantage of your heat, as well. He had done nothing to help you, had not given you a choice in anything. He had promised you that, hadn’t he?

He answered himself—yes, he had promised himself that he would give you the possibility of a choice. You would hate him now, he had no doubt about that. Your body would love everything he did, but could you forgive him when this was done and the need of the heat was gone? No—and how could you? He had taken the choice from you, taken advantage of your need, allowed you to be brought here just to have you submit to both him and the cowboy. He was often overwhelmed with just Jesse, so you must be doubly crushed.

And now—there was the possibility of pups. He traced a line down your body, just barely above your skin. He shuddered again. What did he know about raising children? Next to nothing. What if he was just like his father? What if he went mad...followed in his father’s footsteps? What if he didn’t mean it but he hurt them anyway? He shuddered again as cold shivers went down to his toes. What if the pups hated him as much as he had grown to despise his own father?

What had he done?!

His voice purred uncertainly behind you. “Is it...so bad to be a zenith to us?” His voice dipped into a rough tone as one huge hand cupped your belly. “Is it really that bad?”

Meanwhile, Jesse was bone tired. It was tough keeping up with one omega, but he thought he had managed fine handling two. Hanzo had done well, in his opinion—especially for a first rut—and Jesse felt a perverse sense of pride in the omega. You were amazing, though—to handle both him and the archer. He puffed out a breath. As long as you didn’t stomp off angrily and demand their heads on a platter, then things might work out. What could he say? That you were in heat and they both decided to drag you home? What kind of defense was that?!

Lord only knew what the other man was thinking. The cowboy shuddered nervously. Hanzo was prickly at the best of times, but for the moment, he was completely unreadable. Would he even want pups this time? Or would he against it? It wasn’t a secret that he had a rough life—only the details were—raised as an assassin, sent out to kill from far too young to take down people who were twice or three times his size, sent out to kill his brother, hated for killing his brother, hated more for not killing his brother. What could possibly be going through his head?

He had no problems with the thought of pups, himself. He liked sprouts running around a place. It made a place seem more homey to have boys making a ruckus and little girls’ ribbons and dollies around. With a little help from his omega, he could make sure they were all okay. He could take them camping, go horseback riding with them, show them about weapons and guns.... He was almost relaxed and happy when he realized that there was one humongous fly in the ointment.

You might never let him or Hanzo see the pups. As rocky a start as the three of you had, you might walk out after this heat. You might refuse to see any of them, hide the pups away. You’d probably be justified in that. Hell, in your shoes, he might be trying to walk out right now, and that scared him from the tips of his scruffy hair to his toes.

Jesse didn’t know what to expect or to do now. Actually, he did know what to do now. He needed to take care of the two of you. He picked up two pillows from the bed and yanked a robe out of the closet. He could take care of the two of you gently and make sure you didn’t suffer during this. He had only a little while during this lull to make sure you felt supported, cared for, and appreciated. It’s what Hanzo would need and expect—and you deserved more of the same.

It was the least he could do to help make things better.

Jesse stomped through, muttering as he tossed a rough towel robe around himself and set down pillows for both of you. Then he went to the kitchen. You heard him begin to pull out what sounded like pots and pans. Quite soon, you could smell a mouthwatering mix of beef and onions.

Hanzo yawned again, rocking closer against you. He rolled slightly so that you could lounge with your head on top of his shoulder as he arranged the pillows. Even his sweat seemed to have a hint of incense. You dozed, surrounded by his warmth and the smell of cooking food. Jesse came back through, making you jerk sourly as he pulled a soft blanket over the two of you.

Hanzo looked at you, trying to gauge your mood. For once, he had no idea how to handle the situation. You gave none of your thoughts away, how you wanted to proceed. Maybe the cowboy had the right idea—try to act like this was normal. He hoped so, because the more that he thought about having a little girl with Jesse’s rebellious hair and a boy with your eyes, the more than he wanted them. He wanted...wanted...wanted.... And now, he was so close to having a family of his own. This would be different—it had to be different—than his upbringing.

“Dinner’s in ten minutes,” the cowboy muttered, grinning at the two of you. All that either of you could see was his head as he stuck it around the corner. He winked at you and smirked at Hanzo. “Got it going already.”

You were shy at his low, gruff tone, but the archer’s arm hugged you tighter. Before you could react, Hanzo snapped back in a playful tone, “It’s about time.”

Jesse made a rude sound before sticking out his tongue, which made you chuckle. “It’s gonna have to do,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped a bit further out of the kitchen. “There’s two of you and one of me so I’m outnumbered.”

Hanzo grinned lazily. “That is your doing.” You smothered a giggle with a soft yawn against the archer’s chest. Hanzo’s voice went deep and purring. “Just imagine when we have pups.”

Jesse chuckled, turning red as you watched. “Well...uhhh....” He scratched his beard. “Yeah.” You watched as he seemed to turn into a oversized, embarrassed boy. “Pups...huh?”

Hanzo nodded, a smug smile on his face. He put his free arm under his head. “You should have thought of that before, cow man.” He grinned slightly at you and then pouted at Jesse. “Where is my pillow?”

Jesse sputtered softly and then went to another room. In a few moments, he returned with a soft, extra-large pillow covered with an ivory satin pillowcase and tucked it under the archer’s head with a soft caress. Hanzo smirked, winking at you before asking innocently. “And her?”

Jesse flushed and brought back another pillow. He fluffed it with a sharp snort and slid it underneath you. Hanzo smiled lazily and nodded towards the cowboy with an arrogant expression that suggested he knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You stared between the two of them with a small smirk of your own. Jesse flushed and backed up before cursing softly and going back to rattle pans around. Hanzo curled up against you and you were surprised as you began dozing next to him. Some time later, his voice floated out, “Hey, you two—are mashed potatoes okay?”

Hanzo’s eyes cracked and looked at you. His shoulders moved carelessly. “He is fixing us dinner.” The archer yawned and stretched. “I do not care, myself.”

“Yeah,” you called back wearily. You sighed and moaned as you tried to stretch. “Do I have to get up?”

Hanzo snorted. “No.” You blinked in surprise. “He is...uncultured. Rough around the edges is what I suppose you would call it. But he has a good heart and is a good alpha.” Hanzo craned his neck so that he could brush a kiss to your forehead. “He will fix meals for...us—all of us—and bring them wherever we happen to be.”

You were surprised when that was exactly what happened. Jesse brought out a meal of what appeared to be Salisbury steak—garlicky beef patties covered with onion and mushroom gravy, mashed potatoes, and peas. He spread out cloth napkins underneath your plates, gave you both plastic silverware, and then went back to bring you both tall glasses of orange juice.

Hanzo nodded regally and flipped to lay on his belly and began eating. Jesse flushed and glanced at you nervously. “Uhh...I—well, I don’t have any idea what you might like.” He looked anxiously at you. “I can order groceries—and we’re gonna have roast beef tomorrow.” He puffed out an impatient breath. “And I’ll...uhh...stock up on orange juice.”

Hanzo nodded slowly, giving a regal approval that made Jesse grin. Then he explained to you, “We use the slow cooker, the smoker, a lot during our cycles. So roast chicken, beef or brisket, soups are common.” He drank some of the orange juice. “We have juices and tea, of course.” He smirked and wrinkled his nose comically. “And that black tar stuff he calls ‘coffee’.”

“Hey!” Jesse protested, bridling up unexpectedly like a spooked horse. “That’s dirty pool.” He sniffed. “My coffee is good. Real damn good.”

Hanzo hummed with a small grin. “Do we have any more of those chocolate toffee candies?” Jesse went pale and stuttered. “I am just...craving those.”

Jesse harrumphed and picked up his and Hanzo’s plates to take them to the kitchen. The archer smirked in an evil way. He leaned over to you. “During the heats, Jesse tries to make sure to have treats and to fix my favorite foods.” You nodded uncertainly. “He will now go mad trying to find where he ‘hid’ the candy from me.”

You laughed softly. “He hides candy from...you?”

Hanzo was surprised to hear you laugh. He liked the sound of it—as soft and lovely as you were. If he had it in him to believe in omens, he would think it was a good one. Maybe you weren’t as decimated by their treatment of you as he had assumed. Maybe he and his alpha weren’t going to be drug over the coals for forcing an omega in heat. Maybe things would...be okay....

Hanzo nodded, a light pink on his cheeks. “I get a craving for them around my heat.” He nodded towards the kitchen. “Once I ate an entire bag of them the first day and craved them the entire time.” He grinned at you. “So he tries to hide them so that I can have a few each day, but he forgets where he’s hidden them, so it takes a bit.” You chuckled again as the archer winked at you and picked up the napkin to wipe a bit off of your chin. “If you have a favorite treat, tell him and he will get it for you.”

You heard Jesse curse in the kitchen and slam a cupboard door, only to open another. You whispered your favorite candy and Hanzo nodded. “The next lull, we will add it to the grocery order.”

Hanzo rolled slightly, his wandering hand bringing your attention to his cock. You blushed—you couldn’t help it. He only smirked and stroked your skin lightly. You watched his face, amused to see that he suddenly seemed thoughtful and solemn.

“Hime,” he whispered.

You shook your head slightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means ‘princess’,” Hanzo translated. “You are part of...of this. Of all this.” He nodded regally. “I know that we...got the process mixed up—the wagon before the ox.” His eyes looked deeply into yours. “But...would it truly be so bad to have pups with us?”

You sucked in a nervous breath. Jesse let out a happy whoop and came out with a handful of yellow foil covered candies. The cowboy plopped down naked and gave Hanzo two of the candies. He looked at you curiously and opened his huge hand to reveal various candies—two peppermints, two more chocolate toffees, a candy cane, three chocolate kisses and two butterscotch disks. “I guess I don’t have everything ready—but this is what I’ve got for right now.” 

He looked up at you with worry scrawled over his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it right—just hang on ‘till tomorrow.” He offered you the candy. “Ya can have two pieces—just like Han. Well, maybe not the candy cane—that’s kind of big.” He smiled timidly. “But you deserve a treat—for takin’ both of us.”

The cowboy shrugged a little as you picked up a piece of candy, looking sheepishly at your hands. “I guess I got carried away.” He flushed bright red. “I smelled yer scent and...I kind o’ lost my head.” He shot a look at the archer. “Han’s not the only one who gets more dominant when he gets a nose full of scent.

“But...but, I can take care of you.” Hanzo snorted at Jesse. “I can..really be a good alpha. I can take care of ya both, make sure yer healthy and I’ll...I will do everything I can ta make it up ta ya.” He swallowed heavily, his eyes flickering to the omega man and back again. “I know yer a bit shook up, but...ahh.... Well, we’ve really wanted pups—we want a family. You kind of...got drug into it, I guess.” He swallowed heavily. “Yer not under any contract—no obligation like they say in the commercials—but...would you join us for real? Let us have pups with ya, take care of ya like ya should be?”

Hanzo muttered, “I, too, apologize. I had not intended to....” He turned red. “I did not intend to scare you or to force you.” His heavy hand drifted to cover your belly, patting it gently. “I...I want a family of my own. I want to have pups.” He looked seriously at you. “If you are...uninterested, I understand. I will support whatever decisions you make.”

“Me, too,” said the cowboy with a serious look on his face. “We’ll stand beside you.” He looked embarrassed. “If ya don’t want the pups, then we’ll take them, raise them. Ya don’t have to be committed to us.”

You felt your insides squish at the thought of pups. Adorable, fat little children with dark eyes and thick hair. Perhaps one would have the mess of brown curls and then the archer’s dark eyes. Perhaps one would have Hanzo’s straight, black hair and your eyes. In your minds eye, you saw all kinds of combinations—Jesse’s warm brown eyes with your hair, your eyes with black waves, Jesse’s freckles over your skin with Hanzo’s eyes. Every single one of them seemed more dear and more adorable than the last. Maybe it was the rush of heat, but everything seemed suddenly...perfect.


	8. Chapter 8

Hanzo watched as Jesse paced back and forth in the doctor’s waiting room. If he were not so tense himself, he would have been amused at the endless clinking of the spurs and the jittery and uncoordinated wringing of the cowboy’s gait. As it was, the pacing was getting on his last nerve.

He had been through the entire week of your heat at your side. Not that it was unusual for tight groups to form during the rush of the cycle, but he had been specifically determined that you would have him to lean on. He knew he had not given you a lot of options at first, but he was trying to give them to you at every opportunity now. So, he had cajoled and bullied the alpha into giving you the first pick of treats, the first pick of television or movies to watch, the first pick of bedding—just about anything you wanted.

Between his blatant machinations and manipulations to get you what wanted and your genuine needs, Jesse never stood a chance.

The last day, when you were all exhausted and could do little more than lay together in lose clumps and watch television or play video games, he had forced himself to back down when you crawled to Jesse’s lap to doze on his shoulder. That had always been his place, but he gave it to you. Then, a bit later, you had crawled from Jesse’s lap to the spare bedroom. You had done that more and more as the days had passed and, initially it had worried him. Perhaps you were overwhelmed. Perhaps he was too intense, too possessive, too demanding—too...something. The next day, he had crept to the doorway to peek inside.

Jesse had initially brought out an air mattress. Hanzo had balked—demanding that a full mattress and a box spring be brought in immediately—but you had soothed him, patting his arm and taking the mattress into the spare room, along with sheets and his favorite pillow and satin pillowcase. He liked that pillow and pillowcase, too—it was soft enough that it didn’t grate his skin when it got oversensitive during his heats—but he let you take it because he was determined to give in to you no matter what. Jesse only nodded, looking between the two omegas nervously, and agreeing to whatever—and quietly going to order five or six more pillows and cases on a rush delivery—because he knew from experience how restless Hanzo got without his favorite bedding.

When he had looked in, he had been relieved—almost amused—to see that you had collected the spare couch cushions, one of his pillows that he knelt on for meditations, three or four of Jesse’s oversized t-shirts, three socks, one of his haori coats, and a quilt from somewhere. You had twisted it all up together into a comfortable pile with a half-filled water bottle and a collection of junk food—a package of nacho cheese nori chips, a tube of crispy potato chips, a few snack cakes, and three plastic wrapped packages of dried fruit—next to it.

You had taken to wearing one of his or Jesse’s undershirts during the few times you all weren’t coupling, and that’s how you were as he discovered your nest. “Hey...what’s up?”

“I was...ah...worried.” He had flushed nervously. He backed down, retreating instinctively. “I wanted you to be sure you were all right.”

You had nodded, going to flop down on the nest and grabbing the water bottle. “I’m...doing okay. Just needed a bit of space to—to kind of call my own.”

He nodded regally. “I will give you and him the bed.”

“No...! No. Just—no. Stay.” Hanzo had been startled as you insisted, “Just let things go. We are fine.” You had shrugged restlessly. “I don’t want to come between you two.”

He had tried to explain, tried to offer you the huge space on the king-sized bed with Jesse, but you had steadfastly refused. You took advantage of his need to make you comfortable and give you the lion’s share of everything and got him backing up. Within a few minutes, he was standing outside the door and it was closing in his face.

He had kept offering, but you kept refusing. He had even moved you once to the big bed, but you had waited until he was napping on the big couch and moved back to your nest. You had been completely unafraid to wake the big alpha when he tried to move you again and he had decided to let it be and let you rest wherever you chose. He would let you do whatever you chose to do as long as you weren’t endangering yourself or the possible children.

And at the end of the heat, both he and Jesse had insisted on you going to the doctor. You were stubborn—he gave you full marks for determination—and had complained bitterly about simply being tired. They gave you a full day to rest, where they stuck you on the couch and wrapped you in blankets with the remote to the television and stereo, and then they stood side-by-side as they walked you through the base to the medical wing.

Now you had been closeted in with the doctor for over an hour. He had sat down with his plastic cup of green tea and prepared to wait for as long as it took. Jesse had paced, gone out to smoke, gotten a coffee he took two sips from before tossing, gone out to pace again and smoke another cigarette and then come back. It was almost amusing, if he were in any position to being amused.

This was the first time you had been out since the heat began. You were closeted in with the medics and behind closed doors. Hanzo had long since become numb to the tension. If you were in there telling them that you were drug off and raped during your heat, then they would be completely focused on getting you help and then coming after them. There were all kinds of laws protecting omegas from harm—all kinds of ways that this could blow up in his face.

But, it had been over an hour. If they had credibly believed that you were harmed, he would have been in chains by now. So, all that remained was to determine what was taking so long. There was no way to find out until you came out, either. He had already asked a nurse once and been quite professionally and quite completely shot down because of “patient privacy”.

He sighed as Jesse stalked over to another nurse to ask about you. Again, there was a reiteration of “privacy policies” and “patient privacy”. The cowboy frowned, but resumed pacing.

“It will not help for you to interrogate everyone,” Hanzo said softly.

“She’s been gone too long,” Jesse scowled. He patted his pockets, fishing around for another cigarette. “It’s takin’ too long.”

“It will take as long as it takes,” Hanzo said with a reasonableness he did not feel. “There is no way to force it to go faster, cow man.”

The cowboy scratched his whiskers. “Still...it’s taking too long. How long does it honestly take to figure she’s okay?”

“As long as it takes.”

“But...we did everything we could.” He looked at the seated man. “Ya even offered her yer place on th’ bed.” Hanzo’s cheeks flamed. “Ya thought I was asleep, but I heard ya talking.”

Hanzo nodded, looking aside briefly. Jesse sighed impatiently and went back to pacing. He was uncomfortable sitting here as a nurse bustled past and a uniformed security officer walked past, but what else could he do? He could either pace restlessly or he could sit here calmly. You would either denounce them as base criminals who took advantage of you, or you would not. There wasn’t any other option he could see, and he was resigned to his fate.

Actually...no, he wasn’t. He wanted to howl, to claim. He wanted to yank open those door and go to you. He couldn’t, though. What was happening was a feminine mystery beyond his reach. You had given him a taste of sweetness—a taste of what it was to be an alpha—that he had never, ever hoped to have. It was a far more precious gift than he had ever considered, had ever deserved. And it had made being an omega even more intense, more enjoyable.

Jesse dug out another cigarette out of his pocket and was about to leave again when a nurse bustled out with a pile of papers on a clipboard. She looked brisk and efficient with her hair in a ball at the back of her head and a set of bubblegum pink scrubs. She tapped a pen on her clipboard and looked down her nose at them.

“McCree? Shimada?” She sniffed arrogantly. “As in Hanzo Shimada?” She didn’t even look up as Hanzo nodded. “Could I see your ID?”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Uhh...I know you’ve seen us before?”

She looked up, flashing her picture ID at them both. “I still need to see some identification.” At Jesse’s snort, she added shortly, “It’s for patient confidentiality.”

Jesse pulled his wallet out and showed his identification. Hanzo snorted, pulling out a similar wallet and showed his own identification. In Japan, the elaborate tattoo would have been identification enough, but here—in a foreign hospital—he needed to show a piece of paper that could be forged in less than 24 hours.

The nurse snorted and led them back to an examination room. She checked and double checked all the various pieces of paper and then knocked on the heavy door. There was a muffled sound and she glared up at the two men.

“Now, you will need to answer some questions,” she bit out as she opened the door.

You were there in a set of hospital robes with a light blanket covering your lower body. Another nurse was beside you, holding a glass of water. You gave them both a weak and embarrassed smile as the nurses began muttering over their papers. Immediately, Jesse went to hold your hand and squeeze it.

Mercy came in a few moments later and the nurses bustled out. She briskly took all of the paperwork and stared down at the three of you. Hanzo stood proudly and crossed his arms across his chest to stare back at her. His personality seemed to fill the room with implacable authority and what you could only define as presence.

“How nice...to have you all together,” the doctor began. She glanced nervously at you. “Are you okay with...this?”

You flushed and Jesse squeezed your hand. The cowboy was about to say something, but Hanzo cleared his throat. Looking arrogant and self-important, he said softly, “What is going on?”

Mercy glared down at the Japanese man with a look of her own. “She is my patient. She is my concern.” She shot the cowboy an impatient look. “As her doctor, her privacy and welfare is my primary goal.”

Jesse let out a soft noise and tapped the other man’s shoulder. “Hanny-bee, let the nice doctor do her job.” Hanzo did not stop, standing at your feet with that scowl on his face. “Let her do her job and we can all go home.” He sent a pleading glance to the Swiss doctor. “That’s right, Doc? We can go home?”

She looked at Jesse and then at you. Unspoken questions were on her face and you nodded slowly. “Really?” You nodded. “Very well.” She looked at the men and gestured. “So we will start with blood work.”

Jesse and Hanzo both were sent to the lab to have blood drawn. In silence, they waited for the carbon copied papers of the results and took them back to your examination room. You were fiddling with a magazine and sipping your water, fully dressed, when they came back. There was an awkward silence as Jesse sat next to you and held your hand again and Hanzo leaned against the wall.

Mercy came back with the stack of papers and began flipping through them again. “So are you aware of the tests and procedures that happen now?” Nobody so much as blinked. “I will need the three of you to come back here in approximately four weeks.”

You broke first. “What?”

“Four weeks and we will have a definitive pregnancy test. If it is positive, you will undoubtedly want to come back in about two weeks after that for more blood work to test for genetic anomalies like CF and MS and Downs and the like.” She gave you a stern look. “And then we will proceed from there, won’t we?”

Hanzo snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

Mercy backed up slightly. “So...I guess, you need to tell me...?” She looked at you in confusion. “Is there a problem?”

Jesse snapped at her. “What are you tryin’ to say, Doc?”

Mercy consulted her paperwork. “Well...as you know, it is generally necessary if there is not an established bonded pair, paternity is established via blood work once a pregnancy has been confirmed.” She flipped through her papers again and looked down her nose at the archer’s proud stance. “This is to help compel support for the children if necessary—as I’m sure you understand.”

Hanzo turned slightly to glance at the cowboy and then you. He gave you a slight nod and spared the alpha a glance again before turning to Mercy. “They are mine and I will provide for them.” He waved at her papers. “You can put that on your paperwork, if you wish.”

Mercy gaped at him. “But—you are...? Aren’t you...Jesse’s...mate?!”

Hanzo stood proudly, his back ramrod straight and his stance fierce. “It nonetheless remains my responsibility. My pups. My children.” He gave her a proud glare. “I will provide for them, so all that remains is for you to finish your paperwork.”

Mercy frowned, clicking a pen. It was hovering over the sheets uncertainly, as she looked at the cowboy. “Nothing to add, Jesse?”

“Yes!” Jesse gaped like a dead fish. “No. Yes. B-b-but...?!”

“Because if you don’t say something,” she continued blithely, “then you will never be able to claim any of them. They will never be yours...and you will never have any say—.”

“Now hold on there, Hanzo!” snapped the cowboy as the archer opened his mouth to say something. He turned towards the doctor and hissed, “I’m just as responsible.” He held your hand fiercely, his cheeks turning red. “I got the same rights an’ responsibilities—.”

Hanzo let out another snort. “I have already—.”

“Enough!” shouted the doctor. She began tapping the clipboard with the pen. “This is precisely why we are going to do the tests in exactly the way I have explained. Four weeks to confirm the pregnancy and then two more and you will have paternity results.” She glared at both of the men. “A month following that you will be able to do a chorionic villus sampling—a CVS test—and you will have an exact paternity test of each child’s paternity.”

Both men flushed slightly as she looked at you. “For the record, I advise you to get these two calmed down. I know that a pregnancy can be...tense for everyone involved.” She puffed out a breath. “But the more upset these two get, the more tense you will be and the harder it will be.” Her cheeks turned red. “And again for the record, these two can cause raise plenty of hell when they get started.”

You nodded at everything she said, flushing at the two stern faced men as they hovered over you protectively. Jesse and Hanzo nodded slowly, looking at the doctor with unblinking stares as she began writing on her papers. She glowered at them, frequently looking to you and asking for your approval. Every time, Hanzo would move a little more in front of you with a scowl and Jesse would grip your fingers. Finally, she wrapped up her paperwork and handed you the clipboard.

“Please go over the information in the highlighted fields,” the doctor said evenly, handing you a pen. “And initial on the bottom of each page.”

You went through the pile of papers, with Jesse looking over one shoulder and Hanzo looking over the other. It was somewhere on the line between infuriating and comforting as they silently watched you initial each page and finally sign the papers. You glanced up at both of them as you handed the clipboard back.

She nodded and went over the pages again, tapping at the pages and eventually starting to sign the pages herself. She looked up at you again, her eyes flicking sharply between the men, and said, “Are you sure that you are...okay with this?” She looked at the pad again. “I mean, there are protections for you if you want them. And the children—.”

“There is nothing that you need to be worried about,” Hanzo snapped. “The children—if there are any—have been claimed.”

“If?!” Mercy snapped. She pulled out a small computer printout. “Let me assure you, Mr. Shimada, that I have done my due diligence and have the results right here.”

Hanzo snapped up the paper and looked at it. Jesse glanced at you and then at the archer before looking down to your joined hands and kissing your knuckles. You flushed nervously as Hanzo read the paper.

“As you can see, Mr. Shimada, there isn’t much room for debate.” Mercy took the paper back. “I have already performed the necessary tests. The heat cycle—as has been described to me—has been confirmed with blood work. The initial workup confirmed that the—.”

“So it has all been confirmed,” Jesse gritted out. “Can we go?”

“I have done my job,” Mercy snapped.

“And we are satisfied,” Hanzo sighed. “We will make the arrangements to return in four weeks.”

The doctor sighed and rubbed her forehead. “As you say.” She laughed bitterly at you. “I still advise you to—.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep us all relaxed,” Jesse interrupted. “Will do.”

They helped you off the table and took the paperwork the doctor offered. With barely a nod, they escorted you out and took you to one of the gardens. Once there, Jesse snatched the paperwork and began to look through the pages. Hanzo snorted and rolled his eyes before leading you to a bench to sit down.

“Hanny-bee,” Jesse frowned. “Do you understand this jumbo jumbo?”

“I understand some of it,” he replied. “It is standard after heat reporting. The part after the blue box explaining the slight zinc deficiency and the B vitamin levels is apparently not on my usual paperwork.”

“Deficiency?” Jesse scratched his head. “So, we need...vitamins?”

Hanzo nodded thoughtfully, looking at you carefully. He gently stroked your hand and looked at the inside of your wrists as if you had written the answers there. “I would expect so.” He shrugged. “I would imagine that we will get the full write up in a few days, along with any vitamin recommendations.”

Jesse came over with the paperwork and gave it back to the archer. Hanzo rolled his eyes again and folded it into a neat package. The cowboy snorted and thumped his pockets until he pulled out another cigarette. He stuck it in his teeth and pulled out his lighter, watching you with a grin.

Immediately, Hanzo shot to his feet. With a vicious looking swipe of one hand, he knocked the lighter out of Jesse’s hand and then smacked the cigarette. The tiny stick exploded as it split, scattering a fine powder of dried tobacco everywhere.

“What the f—?!” Jesse exploded, dropping the useless end of the cigarette out of his teeth.

“No!” Hanzo snarled. “You will not do that in front of her!” He pointed to a bench thirty or more feet away. “If you must do that, you will do it over there.”

“What?! Why?!”

Hanzo flapped the paperwork in Jesse’s face. “This is why.” He glanced up at the taller man, down at you and then back up to him. “She...she and the pups do not need to breathe that poison.”

Jesse gaped, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, before grumbling and nodding. “I guess I didn’t figure on that.” Then he shot a bitter look at the archer. “But that goes double for you.”

“I do not smoke.”

“But you drink.” Jesse nodded as Hanzo’s cheeks turned red. “And you drink alone. And you drink really piss poor stuff when you run out of the good stuff you have hidden in the apartment.” Hanzo snorted, flushed and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “So if I’m stuck without my tobacco, boy, you’re stuck without your drink.”

“Fine! I will be fine without it.”

“Fine! Me, too!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

You held up your hands and looked between the two arguing men. “Boys! Boys! You’re both pretty. Can we go home now?!”

They scowled at each other another few seconds before looking down at you. You rolled your eyes in exasperation and stood up. Plucking the papers from Hanzo’s fingers, you walked back to your own apartment.


	9. Chapter 9

Of course, they didn’t let you go that easily. You had exactly four and a half hours to yourself in your apartment to look at the paperwork, get upset, and flop down in front of the television with your favorite ice cream before the first ring of your doorbell.

Jesse stood there with a small grocery bag of a few cans of frozen orange juice concentrate and a pad of paper that he wrote down random, messy jottings as he walked through your apartment to put the juice in your freezer. You were just about to ask him what he was writing when you heard another ring of your doorbell.

Hanzo stood on your doorstep, scowling and with cheeks flaming, with a bag on his arm and a small pot holding a trio of bamboo stalks with a card holder holding a red envelope that was larger than the tiny green leaves. He barely glanced at the cowboy as he offered the plant to you and stalked in.

He had a small pink bottle of vitamins for new mothers and then a small purple bottle of supplements especially for omegas, a bottle of orange juice, a bottle of apple juice and a box of organic mint tea. You smirked in amusement as you put everything away and the two men stood in your living room glaring at each other.

“Hanzo,” Jesse nodded solemnly.

“Jesse.”

“What are ya doin’ here?” the cowboy asked deceptively softly.

“I am taking care of my children,” the archer snapped. He crossed his arms, scowling. “I have already claimed—.”

“You ain’t got shit!” Jesse growled. “I am claiming—!”

“Neither of you have anything!” you snapped at both of them. “Look, I have to figure out what’s going on and then and only then will I come to either of you about it.”

They both glared at each other before turning to you. Jesse turned red and swiped off his hat and scratched his head. “Hanzo and I....”

“Are arguing in my apartment,” you finished for him. You tugged on your hair in irritation. “Look. You both were great during my heat, but I’m...just a little overwhelmed right now.”

Both of them nodded, their faces tight. Jesse looked more than a little ashamed and stammered. Hanzo only flushed, looking away and crossing his arms tighter over his chest. You growled, praying for guidance, and showed them both to the door.

The next morning, you were just leaving your apartment and stepping out the door when you saw Hanzo. He escorted you to breakfast, running back and forth to get you juice and fruit and then some hot water for the mint tea you hadn’t asked for. You could barely get a word in edgewise as he set everything in front of you. He even had spare bottles of the supplements and vitamins in a belt pouch so that you could take them.

You got to your first meeting with barely a minute to spare. You scrambled through the day until lunch, when Jesse was standing at the lunchroom door, obviously waiting for you. He basically repeated the same thing—bringing you a fresh green salad, another bottle of juice, a huge bottle of water, and a grilled chicken breast sandwich on an organic whole wheat roll.

You went through training—thankfully nothing had changed there—but at dinner there was an encore. Both of them were there, glowering at each other as they presented you with plates of vegetables, a fruit salad, and the salmon main course. They kept growling soft curses at each other as they tried to get you to eat the absolutely healthiest things available.

The third day of the charade, you got a message from Mercy. She recommended omega supplements—ironically the same brand Hanzo apparently had several bottles of—and more fresh vegetables and fruit in your diet. You sighed and thanked her as she reminded you of your next appointment.

Both of them were right on top of you the next day as well. You could scream at both of them as they snarled at each other about claiming “my kids” and simultaneously all but force feeding you salad after salad, whole wheat bread, and 100% orange juice. It was almost unbearable.

At the end of the week, you finally had enough and stalked to their apartment. Jesse opened the door and silently let you in. You were surprised to see them so casually dressed. Jesse was in a white undershirt and worn thin sweatpants. Hanzo was in a loose, pleated hakama with a comfortable yukata that was open to the waist.

Jesse led you to a chair and had you sit down. He was shaking slightly nervously as he went to the kitchen and got you some more of their blasted juice. You looked at Hanzo—Hanzo who looked tense and nervous and like he hadn’t slept in a few days—and he shrugged casually.

“So, we gonna look at each other all night?” Jesse asked.

You puffed out a breath and then sucked in another deep one. Mercy had told you to relax and the Meditation For Complete Idiots book said that deep breathing was a good first step. It was strange, though—there was no scent of tobacco in the whole breath. Come to think of it, there was not even the faintest whiff of smoke or of alcohol.

“Is something wrong, hime?” Hanzo finally asked. He leaned slightly closer, pulling his top closer around himself. “You look...upset.”

“What is going on with you two?” You didn’t know what else to say. “You two are driving me nuts with all this crap.”

Both of them blinked in surprise. The archer recovered first. “I...see.”

“Look...,” you whispered. “I totally get that I am...totally screwed up right now.” Tears formed in your eyes and you couldn’t say why. “But you guys are driving me insane. You’re constantly at each other’s throats and constantly competing and...God knows what is going on.” They both blinked at each other. “What is going on guys?!”

Jesse puffed out a breath and muttered, “I could really go for a cigarette now.”

“And you cannot have one,” the archer said softly with a firm tone. “It is bad for all of us—especially children—to be exposed to second hand smoke.”

“An’ you can’t drink,” the other man replied sourly. “If I can’t smoke—ya can’t drink.”

He nodded. “I should be...sober.” He sighed, looking a bit shame-faced. “The children should not be forced to deal with my...demons like that.”

You didn’t know what to say as the archer seemed to turn away a bit. “The children....” He looked at you, somehow growing pale and flushed at the same time. “I...I must be...sober and awake for the children.” Unconsciously, he curled his fists. “I must be...the best I can be for...them.”

You stared at his fists. His rough hands were curled tight and he stared at them almost furiously. “What...is wrong?”

Hanzo looked up at you and offered you the most fake smile. “I will be fine, koneko.” You shook your head nervously and reached out to touch his fists. “I will be fine. I always...must be.”

“What is going on, Hanzo?” you asked softly.

His fists closed tighter and he seemed to be shaking. “I.... You are right—as an omega, I have no claim.” He jerked away slightly, his eyes filled with some emotion that seemed to overwhelm him. “I will not—.” He turned red and stammered, “I need....”

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” you whispered.

He twitched slightly and you thought that he was not going to answer. He looked anguished as he stared at nothing. His fists unclenched and clenched uncertainly. “I have nothing to say. I.... You know my shame—that I am an omega.” He shook with memories you could not see. “As an omega, I cannot usurp an alpha’s claim.” He waved at Jesse bitterly. “The cowboy is willing to claim them and I do not have the...right to claim them.”

You frowned and stroked his fist gently. It scared you a bit that he seemed to be barely able to contain whatever he was feeling. You could almost see the shame he was feeling, but it was laced with so much anger and what you could only guess was jealousy that even his skin seemed to be shaking with it.

He finally shook off your hand. “I...I—. It kills me! This kills me.” Hot tears went down his sharp cheeks. “I will have to leave. I will lose everything that I have—again. I will not be able to claim...claim my children. I will not be able to hold them, tell them of their ancestors. I will not be able to play with them, teach them archery or anything. I-I-I will never...never have a family of my own. I will not—be...anything more than...an omega.”

Jesse turned pale as Hanzo shot to his feet and stalked past. You stared as he stomped to the spare bedroom and slammed the door. Jesse stared at you goggle-eyed and then at the door. “Wha...what?!”

You kept staring at the shut door. “I.... What brought that on?”

Jesse looked at you like someone had just torn up his heart and spat it out. “Darlin’—is that what ya want? To have Han leave...leave me?”

“No!” You had no words. “No...I mean, I never wanted to break you all up.” You shivered. “I figured that you were—.” You cocked your head a bit as you considered what you had thought you knew about the cowboy and the archer before the heat. You had certainly learned a lot, hadn’t you? “You both were just fine without me.” You shrugged lamely. “You will be fine together after I’m gone.”

Jesse hung his head and stared at his hands. “I thought I was doin’ the right thing, ya know?” He sighed. “I thought that...we were helpin’ ya. That we were doin’ the right thing—helpin’ ya with yer heat and....”

You nodded slowly. “So what do we do now?” You glanced again at the door. “Do I need to go talk to him?”

“I’ll go an’ talk to him,” Jesse sighed. “I’ll get through to him...somehow.” He rubbed a big hand over his face. “I need to be sure that he’s okay.” He gave you a rueful smile. “So...since we’re pretty sure yer pregnant after all that—what are ya going to do?”

“Do?”

He nodded slowly. “What are you going to do with the pups?” His whole face went pale and his drawl deepened. “I told ya I’d support yer decision. But I’d kinda like ta know what ya plan ta do.” He stared into your eyes and his brown eyes were haunted. “Are ya gonna...?”

“What?”

“Yer gonna keep them, right? Yer gonna...have them? Nine months and everythin’?”

You gaped in surprise. “Keep them?!” You sucked in a nervous breath. “Of course I’m going to keep them!”

Jesse nodded slowly. “OK. That’s good to know. Ya gonna let us see them?” You gasped at the soft question. “I just wanna know if we’re figurin’ in yer plans at all or if we’re gonna be shut out of all yer lives.” His voice dropped to a low growl and his eyes snapped. “So are ya gonna let us know anything? Let us be there? Or are ya gonna just pretend like we didn’t have any part in it?” You didn’t know what to say—and honestly hadn’t considered what to do next—and he continued in a rush. “So, I want ya to—.”

Your mouth was open to shout back at him when the spare bedroom door opened. Hanzo stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked even more haggard and there were angry, wet tracks down his face underneath his red eyes. “Leave her alone.”

Jesse took one look at him and stood up facing him. “Darlin’—.”

“Do not.” He sliced the air with his hand. “You promised me that we would give her the choice.” He paused for only a half a shaky breath. “You promised me that you be sure that I gave her the choice.”

“Darlin’...I know—.”

“Then it is our giri—our duty—to give her the freedom to make that choice.” He scowled. “No matter what we want, it is not our choice to make.” Hanzo turned to you with a haunted look on his solemn face. “You need not answer to us...for anything.”

“But—!”

“You will do what you believe...is right.” He sighed, turning away slightly. “I will...concur with your decisions.”

“That is not what I meant.” You stood as well, your hands curling into fists. “I didn’t—.”

“I will see to it he—,” Hanzo interrupted with a careless gesture towards Jesse, “—does not corner you again.”

“Th-thank you...?”

“Do not thank me.” He moved to stand between you and Jesse. He face became resigned and solemn. “Do not.”

“B-b-b-but...why?!”

“I have no choice.” He nodded towards the door. “Now leave him to me.”

Jesse looked shell-shocked and just nodded. You puffed out a breath and slipped out to go back to your place. Your apartment was deathly silent and tense like a storm was coming, but nothing happened to make the storm break. There was only endless heaviness.

And a shocking loneliness because the next day, you didn’t see either the cowboy or the archer. You were able to choose the greasy sandwich and fries and a cup of ice cream. You ate about half of it with rebellion echoing in your veins, but then...it faded. You kept expecting to see one or the other or both bursting in to whisk it away from you and set salads or whatnot. But...nothing happened—not even when you got another dessert.

The next day, you finally saw the cowboy. Jesse was sitting with his back to you, staring at the plate of beans and rice in front of him morosely. You sighed heavily and glanced at him as you held your tray of macaroni and cheese, a slice of cheesecake, and a soda. He looked slowly up and you were terrified to see how pale he was and how dark his black eye was. As he glanced aside, you saw that he also had a bit of swelling on his lip.

But he said nothing to you—didn’t even stop you as you sat down and ate all of it. Even when you slurped all of the soda, he just stirred his meal every so often and looked at the coffee cup silently. Finally, he got up and walked out without looking at anyone else.

You didn’t even see Hanzo until two days later. He was kneeling in front of a small clump of lilies, staring at them without really looking at them. He noticed you on some level—glancing at you and then back at the flowers—but otherwise he was almost completely insensible to anything but the nodding blossoms. You saw that he had a bruise on his collarbone but his tattoo hid any other damage.

It hid any other physical damage, to be specific. He grit his teeth as though he was in pain, in torment. His eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by purple shadows. His fists were curled until the knuckles were white and were pressed into his thighs. His skin seemed to be faded from golden to a washed out sallow ivory, like he was a faint copy of himself.

He paid you no attention—nothing to indicate he knew that you were even there. You went to a nearby bench to sit for a moment, to watch him, and he never even looked at you. You were terrified at how little notice he paid you, like you didn’t exist and were merely a ghost to be ignored. You took in every bit of him—from the heavy thing that covered only half his torso to the drawstring pants to his precisely styled hair—as you sat there. You must have watched him for three quarters of an hour or more as he knelt there and stared at the velvety petals.

He twitched then, a small stretch, and his top slid off his shoulder a bit. You stared at the thickly hemmed edge and saw...a long red, raised scratch. It was somehow horrifying to see on his otherwise flawless skin. You stood hesitantly, to walk over to him, but he only pulled it back up against his neck and walked away.

You were utterly confused as you sat alone in the garden.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day you happened to be running late to dinner and happened to be right behind the cowboy. He picked up a bowl of chili, added some cheese and salsa and some sliced jalapeños. Then he grabbed a big handful of crackers and went to sit down.

You reluctantly picked up a couple of slices of bread, some jam and a tiny tub of peanut butter. Then you grabbed some chips and a small carton of milk. The cowboy sat alone at a table and you joined him.

“Hey, Jesse,” you whispered.

He looked up sourly at you and nodded shortly. Without a word, he crushed the crackers and dumped them on his chili. You watched as he stirred the whole concoction into a lumpy orange mess. That made your peanut butter and jelly sandwich a whole lot less appealing and you shoved it aside.

“What do ya want?” Jesse asked sullenly, staring at the chili he was stirring idly.

You jumped at his rumbling and deep voice and how hollow it was. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, as though he had been shouting for hours. “I.... What?”

Jesse slammed his hand on the table and his voice dropped to a low hiss. “Han moved out.”

“What?!”

“Han decided that he’s...extra.” Jesse’s eyes filled with tears. “‘Superfluous to requirements’ is what he said. That he was gonna be extra and that he wasn’t sticking around to cause problems.” Jesse sniffled. “He said we’d be needin’ the room an’ that ya would need me more than him.”

“What?!”

“So he moved out. Left me a letter talkin’ about how he was glad I was claimin’ the pups. That he wanted us to have a good life.” His hands were shaking so badly that his spoon rattled against the side of the bowl. “Said he wanted ta us room with th’ pups and that he hoped....” He slammed the spoon on the table. “Dammit, he’s gone.”

You stared at him. “Where?”

The cowboy frowned. “Got himself assigned an apartment. Moved his gear yesterday.”

“Have you...?”

“I’ve pounded on his door and talked and shouted.” Jesse puffed out a breath. “I can’t talk no more. All he does is say that he’s an omega an’ yer more important and I should claim ya instead.”

“Jesse...we have to try,” you whispered sadly. “Why is he...? Why does—?” Your voice cracked. “Why is he scratched up?”

That did get the cowboy’s attention. He stared at you, his attention riveted. “What did ya say?!”

“Why is he scratched up?” You gestured lamely to your shoulder. “Under his...his...uhh.”

Jesse cursed loudly and grabbed your arm. “We’re gonna settle this.”


	11. Chapter 11

Hanzo sat in his apartment, staring at the empty walls. There was nothing in here except for the standard issue furniture—a table, two chairs, a small sofa, a bed and a nightstand. No pictures or electronics—not even an alarm clock. The refrigerator was empty except for a bottle of soy sauce. The cabinets held some teabags and a coffee cup Jesse gave him last Christmas with candy canes and chocolate toffees in it. The drawer under the oven held a pot with a battered top and a saucepan. He had an old iron kettle and a heavy plastic plate and a field set of silverware.

He supposed that he should get some things. He had brought his favorite pillow, but there were no sheets or blankets. It was hard to come from the cowboy’s apartment with its plentiful pillows and blankets and cushions to this sterile and cold place.

He missed the old apartment. He missed the prickly cactuses and the dark green aloe vera plants and the lacy Boston ferns and spider ferns. He missed the collection of beeswax candles they burned in the evenings on special occasions. He missed the messy collection of alpaca wool serapes that were always around in case he got cold. He missed the warm colored pictures—wide vistas of canyons, big pictures of horses, sunsets over prairies. He missed the plastic cactus with the plastic sombrero and mustache and google eyes. He missed the warm colored wool rugs that were all over the floor. He even missed the rainbow crepe covered piñata Jesse had bought and filled with candy for his last birthday that they didn’t break because he wanted to save it as one of the few gifts he had gotten for his birthday that didn’t involve violence.

Jesse had a gift for making a house feel like an incredibly kitschy and warm home.

He stared at the plain white walls and the generic gray carpet. His apartment looked like an ice flow now in early dusk light from the bare windows. There weren’t even blinds or anything to cover the windows. He was in the open to anyone who happened to be passing by as he stared at the walls.

He stood up and walked to the bedroom. His clothes were stacked in his closet—he had done that first thing—and his pillow was on the bare mattress. He laid down on the bed on his back, staring at the white ceiling, with his hands folded on his chest. Maybe sleep would come easily tonight, with nothing to remind to remind him and no soft scent of smoke and leather from the clean mattress.

He missed the small nest you had made in the opposite bedroom. 

When you had left, he had insisted on leaving it there. It was a small one—he usually made larger ones—but it was a soft and subtle reminder of the too brief time that he had tasted the heady rut of an alpha. He was sure the cowboy would untangle it all, toss it into the washer and be done with it unless you went back to settle in it. Then even the soft scent of your heat would be gone—if not today, then soon. It was a keen loss that the cowboy would not understand—he had always been an alpha and had never known the shame of being an omega.

Hanzo stared at the blank ceiling, in awe of the silence.

It was too quiet here. Jesse had a fan running most of the time, here or there. They left a small device running in the bedroom that filled the space with a soft staticky sound to cover Jesse’s snoring. Once they had a small fountain that had filled the air with a musical watery tinkling, but the pump had burned out when they left on a mission and the water dried up. He had missed it and mourned its loss, but the big cowboy had promised to get him another one at Christmas this year.

He stared at the white ceiling.

Still, this was his place. As small as it was, this was his place and he could fill it with what he wanted. He had admired a green jade dragon in Genji’s apartment once—he could find a similar piece and set it somewhere. Maybe he could find a few ink drawings to hang on the walls. He could find a small incense burner and fill the air with sandalwood or sage. He could find a small fountain and fill it with water. He could find a wind chime and hang it over the door.

He hated this place suddenly.

He took a deep breath, remembering why he was here. He did not hate this place. It was his own. He could do what he wished with the place and fill it with things to give himself comfort. No one could tell him that he couldn’t have something or do something in his own place.

Hanzo sighed out another deep breath.

You would have plenty of space now, with him gone. Jesse had the most enormous king-sized bed in the bedroom with room for the two of you. Maybe you could convince Jesse to give up more of the closet space. And you would have the nest in the spare room, someplace to retreat to when the big man was in one of his sweaty summer sprawls across the entire bed.

The archer twitched as he pictured you beside the tanned alpha. He didn’t want to think about it, but once he pictured it, he couldn’t let it go. You were so small compared to the massive man and he did remember how sweet you looked cuddled to his chest after a hard peak. You would enjoy being his omega—his soft drawls, his long cuddles, his gentle hands. You would be happy there and the big man would be a good father and provider to all of your pups.

He shook as he pictured you and the cowboy surrounded by the children. Maybe he would be able to come near them—see them—and be some kind of honorary uncle. As an omega, he would not be perceived as a threat or competition, so he could perhaps play with the children, watch them and spend time with them. Maybe he could teach.... But he didn’t want to be a distant friend or uncle. He wanted to hold them, cuddle them. He wanted to claim them as his own. He wanted to have at least one that was his to prove to himself that his bloodline wasn’t cursed to dishonor and destruction. He wanted.... He wanted....

No.

He couldn’t want like this. He needed to focus on the immediate needs instead of wasting his time and energy on stupid things that he would never have. He needed to get his suppressants—maybe an extra dose. This heat had passed so quickly and been so intense, he had no idea what the effects would be. And with the rush of an almost rut? There was no telling what that would be like. It was probably a good idea to get the next dose early, take it back to back or maybe even overlap the doses so that he wouldn’t hit another messy and futile heat. He wanted to forget that this had happened and finally move on with his solitary life.

You were unforgettable.

The way you held him made him feel strong. Your breathless submission made him feel dominant. You had accepted him into your body, surrendering to him with a natural flow that lit his blood. Your body had milked him dry—repeatedly—as your cunt gripped his cock and you gulped his cum. You had not pulled away from him, from his shame or his slutty heat-crazed body. Instead, you kept coming to him, presenting yourself as sweetly as he had ever dreamed.

His whole body hardened as he remembered—your hips up in the air, your spine arching, your words stuttering and begging softly. He remembered you crawling to him with your mouth open. His hands dug into his pants and shucked them down enough to pull his hardened cock out. His hands shook as they gripped and began stroking.

The first thing he saw in his head was Jesse on the big bed during one of the lulls. He had satisfied the archer and his cum had shot across the bed. Immediately, you had crawled up with that sweet swish of your heat addled body. Hanzo howled, almost crumpling as your mouth had lapped at a drop of the archer’s cum and then stroking your tongue along his softening cock. Jesse had pulled back a mere half step and then picked you up and laid you across the bed. Your mouth was still towards the archer, but your hungry core was across the bed. The cowboy had thrust into you, grinning at Hanzo wickedly. The archer had been helpless except to kiss you both. With a grunting growl, the cowboy shook and had poured his seed into you as you gasped against Hanzo’s lips. The cowboy had collapsed beside you on the bed. The archer had stepped back, prepared to give the two of you the bed, but you had pulled him to your other side. The three of you had slept for about a half hour, but you had gotten up then to raid the drawer that they kept small bags of chips and snacks, leaving them on the bed with an open space in the middle. The archer smiled wearily and the cowboy had cracked an eye and grinned back, pursing his lips in a silent kiss before whispering and going to sleep.

He remembered one of your early morning peaks. You had been drinking coffee and cutting up melon cubes and slicing bananas. You had finally gotten hungry and stuck a banana in your mouth. He had watched as your eyes had darkened and dilated, your mouth around the ripe fruit. Your lips trembled around the pale yellow fruit as it slid a bit further in and his cock had hardened as he pictured your lips around his cock. The cowboy had been blearily toasting bread and adding sugar to his coffee, his back to you both. Hanzo grinned, grabbing your arm and pulling you around the counter, out of the kitchen and to the floor. You had managed to get the half-eaten banana out of your mouth and on your back before he had pounced and slid into you.

He had been sitting in a comfortably upholstered chair when you had come up. He had sniffed the air, distracted from the mindless entertainment by your heat scent. You had mewled things in his ear that made his hard cock throb. Without thinking, he had pulled you over him. You straddled him, his cock slipping into your dripping core. You bounced up and down on him, calling his name and crying out. His knot had ground into you and he had thrown his head back, his neck straining and his teeth ground together. Your core had gripped his knot, tugging the scant inch up and then down in a rocking motion to drive him insane with pleasure. His seed sprayed up into you, filling you as you shrieked his name in heat-addled praise.

He stroked his over hot body, his skin shivering as he thought about the past heat. You had tempted him, your scent driving him mad as he had rocked back and forth between alpha and omega natures. You had swallowed his cum, your throat and tongue rolling around his cock. He had thrust into his hands as you had been locked onto Jesse’s knot and all but sobbing your pleasure. Pre-cum dribbled out over his palm as his hips stuttered up and down as he imagined—no, remembered—you laying on the floor with both their cum dripping out of your core in white drops.

He rolled to his side, his hand still stroking his red cock. He couldn’t get quite the warm and soft feel of you and couldn’t quite get the hot and rough, calloused feel of the Jesse. He frowned, trying to figure out what he needed enough to cum. He replayed the heat, trying to stroke his arms and neck and find that pleasurable push. 

His ears filled with the your voice. You had begged for him. He had leapt up every time you did, desperate that you would not go unsatisfied or be frustrated as your voice had trembled. You had said “please take me” and he had rolled you on your back. That first day as you were hurting with your building heat, you had asked him to be your alpha. You had cried out helplessly as he had bit the soft skin of your neck, everything clamping down and gripping him tightly.

He chased his pleasure helplessly. Tears filled his eyes as he stroked his throbbing cock. The climax built and he staggered towards the edge. He remembered you had turned to him as often as Jesse, your eyes wide and naked in their desperation. It had seemed like you wanted him equally, respected him equally. He had not felt the tiniest bit of shame during this heat which made it feel even better, even hotter.

He fell over the edge with a sob. It wasn’t the mind blowing pleasure you had lavished on him, but it was a little something. It took the edge off and made him lay still on the bare mattress. Hurriedly, he wiped up the spots before they sank into the bedding.

Hanzo sighed and rolled to his back to stare up at the ceiling again.

A half hour later, he realized that he was not going to be able to slide into sleep. It was a harsh thing, but he accepted it and got up. Underneath the neatly folded stack of his underwear, he pulled out the small zippered, leather pouch. He had stuck his box of vials under the bed until he could find another hiding place for it, but this pouch he had immediately hidden out of instinct and shame.

He went to the bathroom and ran a lukewarm bath and dumped some Epsom salts into the water. He unzipped the leather bag and pulled out everything—two sharpened pieces of bamboo that resembled pencils, a pencil sharpener, a sharpened wooden dagger, a few thin coins, and a few stiff clips. It was his collection of punishments that beat down the shame he had always felt as an omega.

The cowboy had hated this.

He picked up on of the bamboo sticks. He had hidden this little collection away, shifting it every so often so that it wouldn’t be found accidentally. He smirked for a second—he couldn’t count the number of times he had found Jesse’s stash of chocolate toffee treats as he had hunted for a new hiding place. Once he had even taken it all out of the pouch and stuck each piece underneath the drawer bottoms.

He stared at the tub with its faintly saline water. He did not deserve the clean and soft mattress. He did not deserve the clean carpet or the sparkling new bathroom. His failures echoed in his ears. He was only an omega—the lowest of the low—rather than the alpha his father had wanted. He could not even claim the children he fathered with an alpha in the picture.

If he had managed to father any, that is. That would be the last, bitter swipe of a cruel and capricious fate—to make him infertile since Genji was probably a stud bull in all his alpha-ness. That would be just his luck to be infertile. Or would it be his bad luck to be super fertile and doomed to still have no children? He was not sure as his thoughts turned sour and into another dark corner of his head.

From the first, Sojiro had been shamed by his lowly status and had made sure that his eldest son knew it in every fiber of his body. Unknown to him, his father had searched for an alpha female, and they had been making arrangements. His father, Sojiro, had told him about the union after dinner one night and he had balked at first.

“But...why?!” Hanzo had demanded. “Why are you...sending me to...China? To the Triads?!”

Sojiro had only glanced up from the papers on his desk and snorted. “You are going to cement an alliance. I have managed to find an alpha female that is willing to take you off our hands.” The older man had shrugged. “At least be a man and accept your duty if you cannot manage to be an alpha.”

“But to China? Were there no alpha females in all of Japan?!”

Sojiro sighed bitterly and stared up under his brows, his head still bent over the papers. “And have your shame stain us all? You will be doing much the same thing—raising pups and staying behind to take care of them as she handles the business—as you would be doing here. At least in China, you will have less chance of our business associates seeing you.” He shrugged again, turning his eyes back to his papers. “So you will finally be useful to us in cementing the alliance instead of turning all of Hanamura on its head when you go into those filthy heats of yours.” 

Sojiro slid the report he was reading aside and reached into his desk. Pulling out a sealed plastic kit with two tubes and a sheet of stickers and a humiliatingly large typed instruction sheet, he tossed it to his son. “Now...fill these up so that we can ship them.”

Hanzo stared at the package, reading the large type. “Omega Fertility Test — XY” was in large, unfriendly letters on it. “What?!”

“Fill these up. We need to ship one to the testing company and one to the alpha so that we can prove you are a fertile omega.”

“A...f-f-fertile omega?!”

Sojiro nodded, pulling out the next report and beginning to study it. “Do whatever you need to do—magazines or toys or whatever it is that you omegas need to do to get it up.” He waved his hand, already concentrating on the business again. “Dismissed.”

He shuddered as those words echoed in him again. He had no value to his father except as a pawn for an alliance. Ever since that first, embarrassing heat, his father had been ashamed to even know him. He supposed that it was fortunate that there was an overenthusiastic—albeit misguided—beta guard outside his door that first heat. Otherwise Genji would have succeeded instead of being drug off. Their father had come in, took one sniff, and locked down the entire hallway. He must have immediately begun making inquiries to find an advantageous match for his omega son.

Hanzo dug the stick into his skin, drawing a long red scratch into his right arm. Line after line from his shoulder to his elbow. The line was bright pink, stinging. Adrenaline flowed through him like water in a desert. All sorts of things were muted as pain laced through him.

His shame slid away. He was finally being punished properly. Not the love taps that the cowboy gave him—but finally properly punished for his shame. The pain ate him alive as he dug the point into his skin, burning out the pain. If only he had tried harder, done something different. If only he had been born an alpha, rather than the omega he was in his heart. Or female—even being a lowly female omega would have been better than a male omega. Perhaps if he had been born female, his father would have been less ashamed. At least an omega female followed his father’s idea of the natural order of the genders.

And then to have gone to you as he did. He had burned with hellfire from that first heady scent. He had done the unforgivable—drugging you, taking bits of your clothing back to the cowboy’s apartment to rut over like a dog. He had spoiled everything before he had even begun to know you. He had ruined any chance of goodness like a careless child breaking a priceless heirloom playing with it.

He had dirtied you. You who had flattered him by calling him ‘alpha’ in your heat-addled state. You who had come to him as much as the truly alpha cowboy. You who had not flinched away from his shame-filled touch. You who had—even after learning about his shame—not turned away and rejected him outright.

He had dirtied Jesse. Jesse who had been, if not kind, at least not hostile when he had first arrived. Jesse who had taken his worthless promises and believed them and cherished them like fine gold. Jesse who still did not believe that he was worthless and his promises were empty words—despite knowing all the times that he had lied. Jesse who had tried to take care of the two of you, who had fallen exhausted into whatever bed they had gotten to each lull each day.

He drew another line over his bicep. It curled in an almost artistic way, reminding him of a coiling dragon. Bitterly, he scraped horns and teeth on it, pain added on pain. He splashed a little of the salt water on it, the cool soothing and the salt stinging. It was a bittersweet pain—pain on the outside and inside and the sweetness of relief.

There was a heavy knock on the door that echoed in the almost empty apartment. Hanzo cursed and scooped up the instruments. The bare windows offered no cover for him to return them to their hiding place. There was nowhere to hide them in the bathroom either—no convenient hamper or pile of towels.

Annoyed as the second knock sounded, he stuffed the pouch under the sink and drained the tub. Sliding back on his clothes, he hissed as the scratches were covered. More than angry at having his time interrupted, he scowled as he went to the door. There you were, next to the cowboy with some papers in your hand. The apartments all had outside lighting near the doors so you both were flooded in damning light.


	12. Chapter 12

Hanzo nodded in solemn greeting. “And to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

Jesse answered for the two of you. “We wanted ta see ya.” He stared at the other man’s covered right shoulder. “See how yer doin’ in yer new place.”

Hanzo shrugged, but did not let you in. “I am well. I am settling in.” He slid the door a little more closed. “I will be retiring soon. Good n—.”

“No, ya don’t,” Jesse interrupted, one meaty hand grabbing the door. He reached over you and yanked the smaller man’s clothing. “Let’s just have a look-see.”

Hanzo growled as the cloth slid down and showed the tail of one of the scratches. He pulled up his top again, his cheeks flaming. “This is not your concern. I am not your concern anymore.” He flicked an annoyed finger at you. “You and your...mate need not worry. I am fine.” He tried to close the door again. “Good night.”

“No,” you snapped, shouldering past him and into the all but empty room. “We’re going to talk this out like normal, healthy adults and get this settled.”

Jesse blinked nervously for a moment and then nodded at the other man. Hanzo scowled even more and opened the door for the alpha to come in. Both men walked to where you sitting on the couch, riffling the papers. The cowboy growled and nudged him to sit beside you.

“Take off your shirt, Hanny,” Jesse ordered firmly.

Hanzo growled in return, “You can give all the orders in your place—perhaps hers, too—but this is my apartment.” His voice dropped to a shivery octave. “This is my apartment and you have no authority to give me orders.”

Jesse snarled wordlessly and undid the top few buttons on his shirt. Pulling the collar open, he showed the red splotch of the bonding mark. “This is my damn authority.” He pointed at the archer. “Yer mark is my damn authority. My juris-suck-my-diction.

“When ya claimed me as yer alpha, ya gave me authority ta make sure yer okay. And I gave ya the authority ta depend on me and ta come to me with any problems ya got.” Jesse shaking with every word he was saying. “And ya marked her too—.”

“What?!” Hanzo bellowed.

“Look at her neck, Hanny-bear,” Jesse murmured. “There’s a nice mark there, too.” He shrugged as you pulled on your collar to show the twin marks on your skin. “So she’s got the same authority ta make sure yer okay.”

“I am fine,” the archer insisted.

“Yer doin’ it again,” the cowboy growled. He glanced at you. “Ya both stay here while I take a looksee.”

The cowboy stalked through the apartment and a few moments later, there was a loud curse. He stalked back in carrying the zippered, leather bag. Opening it, he poured out the pieces on the pristine carpet. “An’ this is why we came!

“Ya promised me, Hanny-bear. Ya promised me that ya’d quit this. That ya’d stop hurtin’ yerself and makin’ yerself sick.” He puffed out an impatient breath. “And I’ll bet yer planning right now on getting a whole bunch of suppressants so that yer never gonna have a heat again.” Hanzo looked startled but recovered to snarl at the other man. “Now let’s take off the shirt and let’s see the damages.”

The archer growled, looking at your shocked and silent face and then stood up. “You both should leave.”

“Yer always talkin’ about your honor,” Jesse continued angrily. “How yer workin’ to restore yer honor. How important it is ta keep yer word—.”

“Yes! NO!”

“Ya even had a name for it. ‘Gi’—integrity, honesty—and it’s like the first virtue of the bush-ee-doe. Ya believed in it, lived it, didn’t ya?” The archer nodded stiffly. “Ya gave me yer solemn oath you were gonna come ta me rather than do all this mess again. Ya told me that you’d always be mine, that ya’d always be come to me. Is this ‘gi’? Is this honesty and integrity?”

Hanzo snarled. “How dare you! How dare you say that to me?!” He stood on his toes, his snarl inches from the cowboy’s face. “You who have never known the shame and dishonor of...of....”

“Of what?!” Jesse shouted back. “Of being an omega?!”

“Yes!” Hanzo shoved the cowboy back. “Of being an omega! Of being a mere worthless vessel so that an alpha can have children! Of being traded like a piece of meat.”

Jesse stumbled back, shock on his face. “Hanny-bee!”

“You never were a worthless omega. You have no idea what it is like. You have no idea what happens to an omega during a heat. You have no idea because you’ve always been an alpha. You’ve always been a big, strong, powerful alpha and no one has ever tried—.” Hanzo’s eyes filled with tears, but you could only barely see them because of your own. He took a sudden, deep breath. “No one has ever tried—successfully—to pin you down to take what they wanted from you. No one has ever sneered at you for being an alpha. Hated you for being an alpha. Wanted to send you away...from everything you’ve ever known or loved or cherished, for being an alpha.

“Alphas are...invaluable. The ones that aren’t—they want to be one. No one wants to be an omega.” The archer wiped his face furiously and shrugged. “I do not want to be an omega. I’d rather be gelded now.”

Jesse gaped, shock draining the color from his face, as the archer turned to you. “And you—you have betrayed me.”

“W-w-what?! What did I do?”

“You know my shame,” he said in a low rumbling growl, staring down at you. “The one thing I had was that I was bonded to a powerful alpha who could...could help me. An alpha who told me that there was no shame in being who I was—what I was. That was all I had and I told myself it was all I needed.” He stalked a bit closer to the couch in a terrifyingly graceful way. Undoubtedly, anyone who saw him coming—even if they knew he was going to kill them with a blade in hand—would be forced to stare at the beauty of his panther-like stalking. “Then I foolishly saw you, smelled you.

“And then I wanted more. I wanted you as well. I smelled you and I was lost in a sea of wanting.” He grit his teeth in an aggressive baring of teeth. “I wanted a family and children that were not...tainted by the clan. I wanted to feel that rush—that unbelievable rush—of being in you and with you during...during our heat.” He shrugged and it looked like rocks rolling on his shoulders. “I wanted it so badly that disgraced myself. I wanted it so badly that I could not do anything but what I did.

“I did the...right thing. I did what was right for them—the pups.” He glanced at both of you. “I left you and him. You can now become a bonded pair and a safely mated pair with pups. They would be children with an alpha and an omega—a mother and father.” He shook his head and you saw a silver tear fly off his face. “There is nothing else I can do, except to be sure that you two have room and respectability. You two will be able to provide for them completely.”

“But what about you?” Jesse asked softly.

“I wan-wanted to see if I...I could be,” Hanzo puffed out anxiously, “maybe be a...honorary uncle. That maybe I could persuade you to let me see them—at least a few times. Maybe, as an omega, I could convince you to let me hold them or play with them. Maybe—if I wasn’t really a...a threat or competition—you would let me be close to them.”

Hanzo began pacing angrily, unconsciously driving Jesse back to the other side of the room as he stomped around. “And now I know I cannot. I want too much.” He pounded his fist into his hand. “I want my children. I want my children to call me ‘father’. I want my children to be close to me. I want to know me as family and not as a shadow in the corner of their lives.”

Jesse held up his hands. “Hanny-bee—.”

“Do not dare to call me that!” Hanzo roared, spinning to face the cowboy. “Do not dare to...to pretend to care about what I am now!”

The cowboy growled. “Don’t tell me what ta do when my omega is tearin’ himself up.” He shook himself. “Don’t tell me that I shouldn’t care about ya.”

“You do not,” Hanzo snapped. “Your children and your mate will take all of your time, I am sure.”

“I ain’t gonna let ya go crazy like this,” he said. “I’m gonna be here—with ya—like I swore to ya.” He shook his head. “I told ya I’d be here for ya. I told ya—I promised ya—I’d be beside ya all the way.”

Hanzo shook his head slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Take your mate and go, cow man.” He shot a black look at the alpha. His gaze turned coldly calculating as it flicked to you. “Go or else.”

Jesse walked forward a step or two and hooked his thumbs on his leather belt. “Or else what?”

The archer didn’t exactly have a plan for that, but to get the cowboy out with you so that someone could have a happily ever after, he was willing to improvise. Hanzo hissed angrily and took a menacing step towards you. You suddenly felt very small and weak on the archer’s couch. He took another step, his eyes shifting sideways and his muscles rippling. “Or...your mate....”

Jesse leapt forward between the two of you. “Now hold on, partner. Don’t take it out on her. We’ll...,” he cocked his head in desperation for inspiration, “rustle up vittles or something. We don’t need any violence—we just want ta talk. Just don’t take it out on her.”

Hanzo straightened, a slow smirk of satisfaction on his face. “So you finally show some sense.” He waved to the door. “There is the exit.”

“Stop it, you two!” You shouted, the papers crumpling in your hands. “Just stop and let’s talk about this rationally.”

“Leave me alone,” Hanzo hissed. “Go...share your...joy with someone else.”

Jesse pulled your arm. “Let’s go.” He looked down at you with tortured eyes. “Don’t....” You shook your head, wagging the papers. “Just let this go...for right now.”


	13. Chapter 13

The weeks passed slowly. Hanzo left on a mission in the middle of the night and you did not see him for several days. Jesse went with you to the doctor as you started to show a bit of nausea in the mornings. Of course, the initial tests showed positive and you were pregnant.

You were bitter as you went to Jesse’s apartment with the paper report. You didn’t know where else to go, honestly. So, you went to the small nest and cried until the cowboy got home and you could show him the report.

He smiled, said all the right things, grilled you a lovely steak and you baked some potatoes. He gave you fresh orange juice and ran out to grab a fresh salad. You both ate listlessly, talking about stupid details—whether or not to buy blue or pink blankets or teddy bears or dollies, whether or not you should have fish, whether or not you were going to stay on active duty. Stupid details that didn’t seem to matter now.

He offered you the bed. He had had it cleaned at some point and bought new sheets and pillows. You refused it and he nodded slowly in silent understanding. He rolled up his sleeve and showed you the shiny square patch where he was trying to quit smoking for good. You nodded, said the right words, praised him for trying so hard.

The next week, Jesse was gone on a mission. You checked on his place every so often, switching the lights off and on. He left a wad of bills in a small cat shaped cookie jar in the kitchen, along with a handful of your favorite candies and a small bag of chocolate toffees, for you to take care of any small emergencies. He had pointed it out to you, but it was the only new thing in the entire place, so it was very new and almost out of place. You pulled out a few bucks to get the things on his grocery list and stared at it. Nothing unusual—a half gallon of milk, a loaf of bread because his had gone moldy, a pound of ground beef, a few light bulbs, toothpaste, some ketchup, a bag of onions—and you planned your own list.

You had written down his list, adding it to the list you had, when you heard the door quietly click behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see the cowboy slinking in, but were instead surprised by the dark clothed form of Hanzo.

“Are you well?” he whispered softly, glancing around anxiously.

You blinked in confusion and nodded uncertainly. You turned to the list again, writing down the last few things. His hand brushed your shoulder and you jumped. How had he gotten this close so quietly?

“Are you sure?”

You nodded again. “I’m doing well. Doctor says that I’ll be sick in the mornings for a while, but it’s not going to be fatal.”

Hanzo stared at you with dark, brooding eyes as you finished the list. “Are you going to—?”

“To what?” you snapped.

He looked at you for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Are you...living here now?” He looked around again. “Is...the nest here?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “No.” His eye’s flashed. “I...have a nest in my apartment.” You shrugged. “Until we get a good chance to talk, anyway.”

Hanzo nodded. “Do you want someone to...?”

“To what? To scream at me? To shout and curse?” You felt tears welling up again. Your head hurt and you often felt like crying. “I don’t...don’t need that.”

“Jesse said that you wanted to talk,” he said softly, holding his hands up in immediate surrender. “Have you...anything you wish to say?” You looked at him and nodded slowly. He nodded and gestured towards the chairs. “Please, let us talk.”

You sighed, going to the sitting area and curling up in a chair. Without the cowboy, the whole place seemed a bit colder and less inviting. Hanzo stood over you, looking at you carefully. “Are you well? You are not weak or shaking, are you?”

You held up your hands to show how steady you were. “No. I’m not. I’m not seeing little pink elephants. I’m not going crazy. I’m just pregnant.”

“P-p-pregnant?” He sounded shocked. “You are?”

You nodded slowly. “Pregnant. Expecting.”

He stumbled and leaned against a chair. “So, it is true, then.” He looked around and said with a sneer, “And he still left you unprotected?”

You shook your head. “I am fine. I’m in the middle of an Overwatch base and I can pick up any phone and dial *51 and get instant security.”

“Will you...will you let me sit with you? Protect you?” He held up his hands slowly. “Until he gets back.” He shrugged. “Then I will back away again.” You peered at the man. His eyes were aching and glistening, but his whole demeanor was solemn. “I will give you my promise—my oath—that when Jesse gets back, you will not be troubled by me again.”

“Until the next time,” you added softly.

He blinked. “I...I see.” He nodded, looking down. “I will not trouble you again.”

“Wait! No—that’s not what I was—!”

He had already spun on his heel and slunk out of the apartment. The door slid silently open and then closed again.

But if you thought you had seen the last of him, you were wrong. There was always, in the corner of your eye and in the darkest shadows, the archer watching over you. He never was closer than ten feet, but he was always there. In the cafeteria, he sat a few tables away with a cup of something that steamed. His red eyes suggested it might not be tea.

You carried on with your normal days as much as you could. With his eyes on you, you did choose slightly healthier meals. You went to the walking track, amused to see him on top of a catwalk. He watched you silently, not stopping you or blocking you in any way, but watching you nonetheless. When you went to your apartment, he was sitting on a bench across the street.

Jesse came back in a few days and Hanzo disappeared. He went back to being a brief glimpse out of the corner of your eyes. The cowboy gave you a small pot of daisies, which went beside the bamboo that Hanzo had brought. You were steadily getting more sick in the mornings, and it was a relief to have the cowboy a phone call away.

He took you bowling one time. You laughed together as the cowboy stumbled around in the slick bowling shoes, muttering and cursing about the low-heeled shoes. He also had a terrible time getting the ball to roll forward—mainly because his thumb kept getting stuck in the ball. You beat him three games to his one and you never broke 115. He fussed an inordinate amount to make sure that you didn’t strain picking up the bowling balls, which made you smile.

Another time he took you to the movies. The plot was some re-hashed, reworked, reheated story from the sick mind of someone. You were mildly interested in the cowboy samurai hero on his robo-horse, but your stomach rebelled at the scent of popcorn and you ended up leaving tremendously early—before the previews were done.

He occasionally brought you groceries or took you on walks. You talked about nothing—lucky numbers for the lottery and what you would do if you won, Coco-choco Rama cereal versus Chocolate Rice Crispies, why modern entertainment was so very confused and seemed to have no originality, whether Godzilla would win against King Kong. Important stuff to talk about so that you didn’t talk about the elephant in the room.

The rest of the time, you were both on your own separate schedules. Your mealtimes were about the only times you had together in any regular fashion. He checked in with you regularly, came by to make sure that you had everything you wanted or needed. You didn’t ask for much and he didn’t press you, but without the archer, it seemed like there was a gaping hole that you both didn’t know how to cope with.

The evening before the CVS—as Dr. Zeigler called it, even though neither the acronym or the full name meant anything to you—you insisted on being in your own apartment. You needed to clean up, rest up. The more you looked up the procedure, the more scared you got, and honestly, Jesse was no help. He was as nervous and anxious as you were.

You finally called him and he came over with a grocery bag of fruit, a few foil wrapped pieces of cornbread and a Tupperware container of a beef stew he had cooking all day. You set the table as he warmed everything up and poured the ever present orange juice. You were about to turn into a bottle of orange juice, but everyone insisted it was good for you and your children.

The cowboy was huge as he sat in your dining chair with a spoon and a bowl of stew in front of him. His eyes were large and brown and almost mournful. “So...did you see Han while I was gone?”

You stirred the thick stew and stared at the cubes of beef, chunks of potatoes, carrots, celery and peas. Finally, you nodded, “I did.” There was a pause during which neither of you spoke, only stirred your dinners. “I went to check on your place and he...walked in behind me.”

The cowboy nodded slowly. “I didn’t ever ask him for his key. Kept hopin’ he’d wander back home, ya know?” He looked up at you. “He didn’t do anything?”

You shook your head. “No. He just...wanted to talk. Just wanted to stay close.” You let out a bitter laugh. “He said that you left me unprotected.”

“What?!” Jesse chuckled.

“I know,” you sighed. “I told him that I was fine.”

“He didn’t take that well, did he?”

“Not really. He tailed me the entire time.”

Jesse smirked knowingly. “The entire time, huh?” He took a small bite of cornbread. “Does he know about the test tomorrow?”

You thought hard about it and shook your head. “We...didn’t really get to that.”

Jesse nodded. “He needs to be there.” You started to speak, but he let out an impatient sound. “It’s important. If not now, then it...will be.”

You frowned a bit in confusion. “I don’t—.”

He shrugged. “I know that this whole thing is throwin’ him for a loop. It’s probably messing him up real good.” He looked at you. “But I think that I know him well enough to guess he’ll be happy if he makes it to the appointments with ya.”

“We can call him,” you said softly.

“That would be real good of ya,” he nodded. “Say—does he even know the results of the blood work? Or did he wig out before then?”

“Before then.” Suddenly, things made a lot more sense. “So...he didn’t—doesn’t know....”

Jesse puffed out a breath. “Yeah...he doesn’t know he’s a daddy.” He scratched his whiskers. “And I’ll wager not knowing is gonna rip him apart.” He nodded to himself. “So he’s attached, but doesn’t wanna be too attached.”

“That makes next to no sense, McCree.” You pushed the bowl aside. “So talk and—this time—try to make sense.”

Jesse hunkered down over the table like a kid with a secret. “I can’t tell ya all of it, but I know his family was...disturbed.”

“Like don’t talk to strange Uncle Bobby disturbed or like Norma Bates disturbed?”

“Try Godfather disturbed. First three movies all together with a twist of lime around a dried cow pie disturbed.” Jesse shrugged, his cheeks flushed. “Then Norma Bates and her whole hotel disturbed. Now, he would probably literally die if he thought ya knew but here’s the 40,000 foot view. His daddy was ashamed that he was an omega and was gonna send him away—.”

“What? Where?”

“Don’t know.” Jesse shrugged. “It about killed him to tell me that much—that’s how much it hurt. It decimated him and warped everything about him and about how he sees himself and his...needs.”

You nodded sadly. Dinner was over in minutes because neither of you wanted to really eat. Jesse boxed the leftovers and put them in your fridge. He came over and handed you a tall glass of iced mineral water. He grinned at you sympathetically. “Just take a bit of time to think for a moment.” He shrugged a little and smiled again. “Now I agree we gotta tell him—he’s got a right ta know—but there’s no tellin’ what he’s gonna do. He’s already protective of ya. He’s tryin’ ta still do what’s right ta him. He’s got it in his head that it’s his duty ta protect ya an’ the pups.”

“But...there’s something that doesn’t make sense.” You stared at him. “It’s like he’s...ashamed.”

“Yeah...,” Jesse nodded as he went to sit down. “It’s the story of his life that he’s always seeking redemption. He’s got a guilt complex a mile wide, a mile deep and a mile high—.”

“That’s two miles by a mile,” you added in a snarky tone.

“By a mile thick.” Jesse smirked at you. “It’s why he...does what he does. He don’t really believe in Overwatch as a grand force for good. He’s here to get pounded on and to fight for what he calls redemption. He believes that he needs ta be punished for what he’s done and for what he’s refused ta do.”

“B-b-but he’s a hero,” you protested. “He’s.... Surely, he’s paid back for whatever he did.”

Jesse nodded. “I know.” He covered your hands with his own. “But he doesn’t believe it.”


	14. Chapter 14

Hanzo sat in meditation, staring at the blank wall in only his hakama. He kept meaning to put something on the wall. Jesse had put a huge television on the wall so that he could watch sports, along with several pieces of an immense sound system so that the entire setup echoed the walls with every play-by-play. He had gone out on the internet and found a poster of a seashore that he thought he could tape up on the wall. It would be nice to look at while he meditated.

He thought about everything and nothing, trying to clear his head.

The apartment was silent as he knelt there. He told himself that it was soothing to be able to do this in peace and quiet. He counseled himself that he was fine, he could manage this whole thing alone. He told himself that he had relied too long on the cowboy for these little anxieties and emotional upheavals.

He wanted to be peaceful. Wanted to be calm.

Instead, he was like a raging storm. He was anxious and worried and couldn’t settle. Thoughts of the pups kept running around and around in his head. He didn’t know what to do about it, except to watch them as they surrounded his mind.

He craved, wanted....

The cowboy’s smiling face bloomed in his mind. Jesse always had what he called a “soft spot” for children. A child’s pouty face and he would forget everything except making that one laugh. A boy longing for a ball and he’d pay for a new one. A girl with a skinned knee and he’d cart her around on his back forever trying to make sure she got to her home.

Just like he’d done with Genji.

He frowned, chasing Genji out of his mind. He settled on you instead—picturing you with children. He liked that picture—you on birthdays with a sweet home-made cake, you up late worrying over their fevers and school projects, you clapping for their victories and sweetening their defeats. He finally felt a measure of peace, picturing them laughing with you.

He folded his fingers in front of him.

Then, gingerly as if it would hurt if he did it too much or went too fast, he pictured one little child as his own. He just pictured a baby, wrapped in a blanket, with his own almond eyes and thick black hair. Slowly, his mind allowed him to picture holding the infant, his arms wrapping around the little bundle. He imagined it would be soft and warm, like holding a dog maybe.

No.

It would not be like holding a dog. It would be—could only be—like holding a helpless baby wrapped in a blanket. And unlike anything else he could imagine, it would be holding a helpless infant who had no choice but to depend on him for comfort and life.

The cowboy had apparently done it all already. He often ended up on missions where kids were involved because one slow drawl and they’d follow him around. He was almost infuriating in the apparently endless supply of candies and treats in his immense pockets and his inexhaustible patience in making sure every waif that came up to him got one. They always came up, touching and passing around his huge hat and folding their fingers and making banging gun sounds. He’d reliably make some grand gesture and groaning sound and hit the floor with a terrifying sound and talk about how they “got him”. There were several missions where the cowboy had spent more time herding children around with a baby on his shoulder than anything else.

If only he were the cowboy’s equal. If only he were a fellow alpha who could claim an omega and children. He slammed his fists on the floor. Fate had been unkind—malicious—enough to make him an omega instead, with no rights in the face of an alpha’s claim.

A sudden insight shook him even more, the oni on his shoulder tormenting him. He had hardly been a just and kind man. He had killed and tormented those around him in the name of the Shimada-kai. He shook all over as his memories replayed and doubts tormented him like the claws of furies. The bitter karma of his miserable deeds was coming back to him three fold.

Was that...why you had assumed him to be an alpha? Was his horrible past the reason you had so carefully divided your heat between him and the American? Were you on some level terrified that he actually was the violent and hated Shimada oyabun? An awful assassin or gangster intent on ripping you to pieces? Had you been fooled by his unsavory reputation or something else?

On the heels of that came another thought that flattened him more than the first. Was that why you had insisted on handling all of the appointments and pregnancy yourself? Were you afraid that he would hurt the children? Were you uncertain that the America cowboy could protect you? It seemed ridiculous that you would have any credible belief that he would or even perhaps could hurt the big alpha, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had successfully attacked an alpha. Were you intent on keeping him out of the pregnancy and the joy of the children not because of his shame, but because of who he had been?

He let out a pained howl. It was too much for him. For a blinding moment, he wished he had accepted his father’s arrangement with the Triad. The unseen alpha female would have had no illusions of who he was or what he had been called on to do. He would have been slotted into another grand estate somewhere and he would have long since fathered pups that would have grown into children who had no illusions or innocence themselves. He would have been isolated in some suite of rooms to raise the pups until they were ready to take their place at the alpha’s side. Perhaps even after he had served his purpose, he would still be in those lonely rooms surrounded by people who would always regard him as a foreigner and stranger.

Instead, his foolish self had chosen this path. He had followed his brother to Overwatch. He had crossed paths with the laid-back and comforting alpha. He had naively dared to believe the foolish promises of forever. He had abandoned his training, his path, to become lovers with the alpha who seemed so opposite of what he had ever believed an alpha could be. Then he had chosen to follow that maddening scent....

He panted, gathering himself. He had served no purpose with this idiotic ruminating. All he had done was—.

The doorbell rang.

He sighed and got to his feet. Certainly whoever was there could be put off until tomorrow. No one should be looking for him. Perhaps it was one of the other agent’s children on their never ending door-to-door campaigns. Perhaps Genji was looking for a sparring partner.

As a matter of discipline, he refused to think it was you or Jesse. That was asking for heartache and he had enough of that. He was hurting too much to let himself dream when all of his dreams only ended in heartbreak and loneliness.

His whole world was filled with too much of both of them.

He went to the door slowly. The carpet shushed as he stepped in his bare feet. It was a pointless thing, but he was slow as he reached for the knob. The door opened to show you and Jesse standing there with a pile of papers in your hands.

His voice was low and hoarse as he asked, “May I help you two?”

You nodded and Jesse nudged your back. The archer stared at you for a moment and then at the papers. He seemed silently thoughtful for far too long before he nodded and stepped back. The cowboy made a noise and pointed down.

There were two pairs of shoes by the door.

You slid off your shoes and the cowboy leaned against the wall to pull off his high boots. You giggled softly as he began muttering and cursing as he got them off. He flexed his feet, rubbing his toes slightly through his gray socks.

You glanced up to see the archer smirking slightly in a hollow way that suggested he was not as amused as he was acting. “Please come in.”

You both stepped inside the mostly empty apartment. Hanzo gestured towards the generic couch and had you both sit. He stood in front of you with his arms crossed over his bare chest. “You wished to speak with me?”

You unfolded the papers and straightened them out across your lap. “Please...could you just listen for a second?”

He stared at you thoughtfully. His eyes were solemn and cool as if he were examining a spreadsheet, instead of a heart-to-heart with someone he knew, let alone cared about. “I...see.” Finally, he nodded. You watched as he straightened his shoulders and back and then grew stern. He was the very model of a man facing a firing squad, minus the blindfold and cigarette. “I will, as you say, ‘listen for a second’.”

Jesse held up his hands. “Now, hold on, partner. We aren’t tryin’ to corner ya, Hanny—.”

Hanzo sliced the air with a sharp gesture. “Enough. You see fit to come to my...my home. Fine. We will talk.” His eyes turned wide and glistened a little as they looked at McCree. “But I do not want to listen to such...platitudes in the middle of such serious business.”

Jesse swallowed hard enough that the kerchief around his neck bobbed. “Okay. We’ll....” He looked at you. “We’ll keep it serious and to the point.”

You looked down at the fine type of the reports. The crisp and impersonal letters blurred for a moment and you weren’t entirely sure that this was a good thing. Perhaps it would be better for you to leave them both alone. Or him alone. Maybe you should just go to Angela and ask about options for the children....

But when you looked to Jesse for support, saw his big brown eyes that looked like a wounded Labrador’s, you realized that you needed to at least try. For both their sakes, you needed to try to make the stubborn archer understand. You glanced up at the other man’s coffee dark eyes and saw no warmth in them, though. You had spent some time getting to know the alpha, but the omega had been stubbornly distant.

Maybe it would be better to just leave him alone.

You nodded to yourself. Say your peace and then leave. That was a good plan. Let him make of it what he would. You glanced around nervously, trying to pick up clues from the apartment and finding nothing except the bare minimum of furnishings in the apartment. You would have never guessed it was even occupied if the legendary bow and quiver weren’t against a corner of the room.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out.

“Obviously,” Hanzo nodded.

You waited a moment to see if he would say more, but he left that single word in the air. Pulling out one of the carbon copies of the various test results, you pointed to a paragraph. “You are a father.”

His eyes flared and you thought he sucked in a breath. “I see.” His eyes darted to Jesse who only held up his hands in silence. “And...?”

This was going worse than you imagined. You looked up at him, his cold features and stiff posture, and your heart sank. This was no fellow omega who would be glad to share in your pregnancy and the joy of children with you. This was not even the socially acceptable warmth of congratulations you’d expect from a fellow agent. Very well—you could find a way to make this work without him.

“You and Jesse are both the fathers,” you said. The cowboy nodded slowly. “So there are at least two children.”

“Two?”

“At least two,” you nodded. “Tomorrow is the CVS.” He did not appear impressed. “The...procedure will tell us how many to expect. And who is the father to which one or ones.” He only nodded again silently and that snapped whatever patience you had left. “Do you even know what that means?”

Jesse patted your knee and whispered, “Calm down, darlin’. Don’t get riled.”

You flushed and grit your teeth at the omega. “Do you even care?!”

He kept staring at you. “Then tell me what this is.”

You glared at him. “The CVS—chorionic villus sampling—is where they do a real-time sonogram and cut samples of the placenta. Or, in my case, the placentas.” You didn’t look up at him, ignored him as you stared at the paperwork. “Each sample is marked and tested for genetic anomalies and for paternity. If...if there are too many to work around—.”

Hanzo cursed sharply in Japanese, his face pale and haunted when you glanced at it. “What kind of barbaric procedure is this?!”

You glowered at him. “It is necessary.”

“No.” He frowned, plucking thoughtfully at his chin. “It cannot be the only way.” He glanced at Jesse with an air of impatience. “Have you consulted the doctors?”

The cowboy slid a half grin to you. “Angela has said that it is a safe procedure—.”

“And you believe that cutting out pieces is safe?!” Hanzo began pacing. “I thought that you were keeping her safe!”

Jesse leaned back and spread his arm over the back of the couch behind you. “And I thought you wanted a calm discussion.”

The archer paced restlessly back and forth without seeming to notice. “There must be another way.”

You growled impatiently. “So, the appointment is at 2:30 tomorrow.” You pulled out a pair of papers and set them on the arm of the couch. “Here are the papers confirming paternity. You can either be there for the appointment or not—your choice.” You looked over at Jesse. “I didn’t know why we thought that this would help.”

Jesse made a sympathetic noise and patted your shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetie.”

“Look...I am worried! I am scared stiff.” You shuddered and implored the cowboy. “I’m scared about it. I’m...scared stiff. I’m scared it will hurt and I’m scared that I will lose them.”

Hanzo paused, looking at you. “Would...you—?!” He swallowed. “Are you...?”

You sighed. “What?”

He sighed and stared up at you. Standing there, his hands curled into impatient fists and then stared at the wall. Again, he was remote and cool—cold—as he prepared for the firing squad. There was a moment that you remembered the old saying, ‘the hero dies but once’. 

Finally he gritted out. “Are you...? Are you keeping them?” You nodded slowly. “Are you keeping...all of them?”

You blinked at his hostility. “Yes! Of course I am!”

He closed his eyes slowly and sucked in a relieved breath. You saw him whisper something as his entire body relaxed. If you had ever thought of seeing a man receive a divine blessing, this is what he would have looked like as he whispered some soft prayer. Finally, he opened his eyes to stare at the wall again.

His voice shook in a deep timber. “You would keep...my children?”

“Yes...?”

He looked at the cowboy. Confusion scrawled across his face. “You would allow this?!”

Jesse coughed nervously. “I’d love all the kids. All of them.” He flushed and offered a friendly grin. “Hell, I’m an just an overgrown kid myself.”

Hanzo nodded slowly. His hands jittered and flexed nervously, like frightened starlings. “You would allow your....” He swallowed nervously, his hands jerking and settling in hard claws against his lower arms. He began to claw down his right arm and Jesse coughed slightly. The archer looked at him and then down at his arm and dropped his hands to his sides. “You would allow your mate to keep another man’s children?”

Jesse nodded seriously.

“Why?!” Hanzo exploded. “Why would you do that?! Why would you keep an omega’s children? Another man’s children? Why would you let that travesty happen?!”

Jesse leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “‘Cause I just happen ta love that other man ta death and beyond.”

Hanzo’s desperate confusion broke your heart. His brows folded into a confused pleat over his watering eyes. “But I am...only an omega. I am nothing.” He pointed towards you sharply, but without anger. “I cannot even bear you children and give you the family you deserve.”

Jesse nodded. “Well, what if I loved the family that I had?” He put a big hand on your knee and looked at you both. “What if I still love the omega that I had?” Hanzo gaped nervously. “What if I miss him so much that it’s like my heart’s broken in two?”

Jesse got off the couch and approached the other man. Hanzo backed up with a stiffening back. Another step and the archer stepped back into a squatting posture with his arms up. The cowboy smiled and held up both his hands peacefully. “What if I’m lost without my bonded mate?”

“But you have a mate,” Hanzo insisted with a bitter tone. He pointed to you half-heartedly. “She has—.”

“‘She’—,” you interrupted icily, “—has a mind of her own, thank you.”

Jesse offered you a small smile. “She’s a good gal. She’s smart and strong and funny.” He offered the archer a sheepish grin. “Hell, half the time I wonder what she needs me for.” The cowboy turned a little red. “I am just tryin’ to give her support and help out where she needs it.

“But I’m still missin’ a piece. I’m still not whole. I got a huge empty hole where my mate used ta be, and I don’t got much of a heart left to give to youngins. And hell, there’s no tellin’ how many are going to be sprouting dragons or lizards or whatever. What am I supposed to do then?”

Hanzo’s tears went down his sharp cheeks. “You are failing in your duty! Your duty is to take care of her and her children.” He wiped his cheeks. “That is what you are supposed to be doing.” He pointed at you again, ignoring your tears. “Your duty is to care for them all—mother and children.” He took in a shuddering breath. “You claimed them all, did you not?” Jesse nodded. “Then why are you doing this?”

“‘Cause it’s the truth. ‘Cause I’m nothin’ without half my heart. ‘Cause I need ta get all my family together. ‘Cause I’m gonna be outnumbered with pups and I know I’m gonna need all the help I can get.” Jesse looked heartbroken. “It’s like that cartoon we saw one time—with the little girl and the alien critter.”

He held out a hand to you. Bewildered, you took it and stood up shakily. The big cowboy held out a hand to the archer. “This here is my family. It’s small—and broken—but good.” Hanzo gingerly reached out for the cowboy’s hand. “Yeah...it’s good.”

Hanzo swallowed and looked at the joined hands. “But we.... You are....”

Jesse nodded. “I wanna have a big family.” He looked at you and you nodded uncertainly. He looked at Hanzo and he gave a stiff smile. “I wanna have lots of children and lots of family. I miss havin’ family holidays where there’s so many people that you can’t hardly move.”

You felt tears running down your cheeks and blurted out, “I remember times like that. Big family reunions like in the movies where there’s table after table of people. And everyone is related and half the time they don’t remember how so they call everyone ‘cousin’ and ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’.”

Jesse nodded. “And holidays where everyone is crowded in the house. And everyone brings something and there’s dishes all over everywhere. Then people are crowded around tables and talkin’ and shoutin’ and food for days.”

You grimaced. “Dishes for days you mean.”

Hanzo laughed softly and stepped a little closer. “I remember big family gatherings.” Jesse grinned. “New Year’s....family days. My father’s birthday. Everyone would drive for hours—coming from all over Japan—and we would be up all night long.” He nodded in remembrance. “We would have fireworks and dances and geishas. The children would have kites and sparklers and would run around eating cakes and treats.

“We would have moon cakes and datemaki and taiyaki cakes and all kinds of food. The whole estate would be cooking and preparing for days. Everyone would be busy—buying food and preparing food and gifts.

“The year Genji was born, my father bought out all of the kites for miles around. There was not a firework display more beautiful—and it lasted for hours and hours. I was almost four and I remember that my father let me stay up until past midnight. I got four kites and a bicycle and a new game. My cousins helped me set it up and we played for hours and then stayed up watching all the fireworks and eating taiyaki until our stomachs hurt.”

You laughed, picturing a young Hanzo up all night. “My family would go watch fireworks. We’d bring out the grill and cook hotdogs and hamburgers. We’d blow bubbles and catch fireflies and light sparklers. Then we’d go to the lake and the city would have a huge festival with vendors and fireworks and everything. We always have tons of food and not even monster mosquitos would make us stop. My grandmother always brought every quilt she made to spread out so that we could all lay together and stare at the sky.”

Hanzo nodded with a half grin. “I loved watching fireworks, too.”

Jesse shrugged and added. “Ya can have fireworks y’all. Just wait til ya see a prairie sunset when the stars come out.” He smiled warmly. “It’s like watching diamonds in velvet. And y’all can see the Milky Way come out in all kinds of colors that ya won’t find nowhere else.”

You looked up at Hanzo. “Don’t you...don’t you want them?” You gingerly reached out to him. “Don’t you want the children?”

You would have never guessed it, never believed it could have ever happened, but the mighty Hanzo crumpled to the floor. Jesse went down instantly and you followed him in a comical chain reaction. Hanzo panted noisily, tears running down his cheeks as he nodded over and over, his hair flopping in his face.

“Now calm down,” the cowboy murmured. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Hanzo kept nodding, his shoulders tense and rolling. “I...I never wanted.... I....” He looked up at you with an anguished expression. “I am...so tired.” He shook as Jesse put an arm over his shoulders. “I.... You could not understand how tired I am.”

“What?!” You stared at him. Instinctively, you knew he was in pain and you reached out to gently touch him. “I don’t know.... I don’t understand.”

He let out a weary and eery sound, his head thrown back like a baying wolf. “I am tired of being alone!” He shook and you both got closer to him, surrounding him. He shook like he was in a snowdrift. “I do not want to be alone. Not...not any more.

“I do not want to be alone anymore.” He sobbed, leaning his head against your shoulder. “My family...the whole Shimada-kai is all but gone. The clan torn itself apart after I left. Overwatch consumed what remained. Genji and I are the only ones left of my father’s line. We are alone now.”

“Yer not alone, darlin’,” the cowboy crooned soothingly.

“My uncles...the cousins.... They waged war over my father’s territory. My estate was all but destroyed as the factions fought for control of the clan. My home is gone. My family is gone.” He sobbed noisily against you. “I am alone.

“I do not want to be alone anymore. I am tired of it. I have traveled alone. I have fought alone. I have...even drunk alone. I have been alone for more than half my life.” He shuddered. “I cannot bear it any more—the quiet and the emptiness and the endless...endless—. It is unbearable.

“I see everyone else has family. Everyone else has people that they can visit and they can all go home for the holidays. I see that everyone else has children and they all play with them and take them home to visit family. It is unbearable that even when I had all the money and the power and everything, I still did not have it. And now that I have sacrificed all of it, I still feel alone.” He jerked and wiped his face. “I do not want to be alone any more.”

You nodded, wiping your face. “I know. I don’t want to be alone either.”

Jesse took a deep breath. “I’m purely tired of being alone too.” He held one of your hands and one of the archer’s hands. “I got my fill of runnin’ and bein’ alone already. I been all around the country with just my feet and the Peacemaker and it’s a nice place ta visit, but home is where I belong. Where my heart is.” He wiped his cheeks. “I got...I got a good thing here. I got some omegas who can kick ass and take names. Not just one, but two of them. I got some pups coming—at least two of them—and that’s about all I could ask for.” He shook his head. “I don’t want nothing to ruin it ‘cause it’s all I got left.” He gulped noisily. “It’s about all I ever wanted—a nice, warm place to call my own and my family around me.”

You both watched the cowboy as he turned pale and nodded to himself. “I don’t got a lot of skills that anyone else wants. I know that I’m probably headed for an early grave from Talon or Deadlock or whoever else decides that they know what’s best for the world. I know I don’t have much in the way of money, but I’m willin’ to try.”

“Money only buys misery,” Hanzo grunted. “It only made my family fight. And fight and fight and fight. And people died because of it. No one was ever satisfied and there was never enough. We had more than any ten people in the entire province, but there was still not enough. I am—we are well rid of all of the Shimadas and their wealth.”

“I want children,” Hanzo continued. “I want to play with them like I was never played with. I want to hold them. I want to cherish them and keep them safe. I want to keep them close to me and to...to know that...I am worth their love.” He looked at you both. “And I am only an omega.” He shrugged a little too casually. “I am a worthless.... My family said that.... I do not have the right to challenge an alpha for a child.”

Jesse looked over and gripped the omega man’s shoulder. “But yer a part of the family, don’t ya see that Hanny-bear?” Abruptly he hugged the other man. “Yer an important part of the family like me and like her and like the pups.”

“I want it!” He shouted it so loudly the sound echoed in the apartment. You ears rang with it. “I want my children!” He sobbed against you two and shook. “I want too much.... Too much.”

You snapped, “No...it’s not too much.” You shook. “It’s not too much. You need to be here too.” You gripped his hand tightly, your knuckles white around his. “I need a family too. I need my family more than ever now because I’m scared. I’m scared and I’m afraid and I know that I’m gonna be in a world of hurt when they come. Don’t you get it? I need my family close ‘cause I’m gonna be at the end of my rope.”

“Can I...truly help?” Hanzo stared up at you. You nodded jerkily. “I want to help. I want to be there.” He looked at you seriously. “Do not make this decision in haste. I do not...I can not survive it if you do not—.”

“I want you to be there,” you whispered. Jesse nodded in agreement. “I want you to help me out.”

“Do not be fright...frightened,” the archer murmured as he slid closer to you. “You have been so brave, I...could not bear it.”

“Why, Hanny-bee?”

“Because I am afraid, too.” It seemed like a hundred years before he continued. “I am afraid that I am...like my father said...expendable. I am afraid that I will be replaced. I am afraid that I suddenly have no place here.”

You whined softly. There were no words that you could come up with.

Jesse only nodded and whispered. “I’m afraid y’all are gonna gang up on me.” You chuckled, but saw that he was only half-playing. “I’m afraid that you all are such kick ass people you don’t need me more than my paycheck for diapers.” He touched your knotted and joined hands. “I’m afraid that my family’s gonna fall apart the second my back’s turned.” His eyes twinkled with tears. “I’m afraid that my pups are gonna wake up without their parents. That they are gonna be afraid to close their eyes for fear we’re not gonna be there when they wake up.”

His eyes were large and trusting. “Don’t do they, okay? Don’t do that to...to my kids. To the kids. I’ll do anythin’. Don’t...just don’t, okay? Don’t make them scared like that.”

“No....” Hanzo shook his had. “I will never do that.” He shuddered violently. “It does not matter...who is their father. I will not leave them.”

“I will not leave them.” Your words were firm and watery at the same time. “Never.”

“Good.” The cowboy nodded. “And y’all are stuck with me, cause I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”


	15. Chapter 15

The three of you were beyond tired when you staggered into Mercy’s domain the next day. You had all stayed up far too late in your huddle on the floor. It was hardly an orgy—mostly talking and some crying and a lot of just huddling together like a pack of wolves trying to share warmth and companionship. When you finally jerked awake from drooling on Hanzo’s shoulder with your legs tangled around Jesse, you all decided it was time for bed.

Hanzo led you to the bare bed with a stagger. You were about to protest—there was only the one pillow on the bare mattress—but then he pulled every single stitch of clothing out of the closet and wrapped it in a loose pile. You nodded at the makeshift nest and crawled into it.

He stood there looking at you for a moment. His eyes went wide and he whispered, “Could I...come in?” He flushed and he twitched. “Ahh...join you?”

You nodded and the other omega scrambled on the bed behind you. Suddenly the nest was very snug as his body slid next to yours. He was as warm as a furnace as he curled around you. His hand came to gently cover your stomach. You let out a soft sound and his hand stiffened and began to pull back.

“I apologize,” he murmured. Finally he sighed, “I will get Jesse.”

“No,” you yawned sleepily. “Just...sleepy.”

His hand came back and settled there. You waited for a moment for him to say something, but instead you heard a soft gasp. You weren’t sure, but you thought you sensed his smile and you knew that you heard his soft voice.

“My....”

“Mmhmm,” you sighed, burying your nose into the nest.

“Oh.”

The next morning, you had to giggle to see giant Jesse McCree had—at some point—gotten two of his massive serapes and wrapped them around himself before folding in some improbable way on the tiny couch. Hanzo smiled at you and did a confused sort of gesture.

“I do not have enough...for breakfast—for all of us,” he stammered softly. “Could you...would you—?”

You nodded as Jesse smiled and began to sit up. “I’ll run out and get...something.”

“Awww, darlin’,” the cowboy smiled. “Ya say the sweetest things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll go get something.”

Hanzo glanced nervously at you and then the cowboy. “You...you are...?”

“I’m what?”

“You do not...seem to mind that—,” he blushed, “—we are alone.” Your face showed your confusion. “It does not...bother you?”

Jesse chuckled. “Ahh, Hanny-bee, she’s not gonna be weirded out by us kissing or anything. Remember, she spent all this last heat with us, right?” Hanzo nodded with an embarrassed look on his face. “So, don’t worry and let her get us some grub.”

You ran out to the cafeteria and snagged up some bottles of juice along with a few whole wheat muffins with blueberries, some pints of milk, a plastic cup of fruit and a big cup of coffee. Someone saw you scrambling to try and hold it all and gave you a bag. You got a handful of sugar packets and some creamers and dumped them in along with a jug of cold green tea.

Funny—you had repeatedly screwed both men silly during the heat/rut and for a minute you couldn’t think what they might want for breakfast.

As soon as you got back, to Hanzo’s apartment, you saw a note on the door “Back at Jesse’s. C U therre.” in a sloppy handwriting. With an impatient groan, you turned around and went to the cowboy’s apartment. As soon as you made it to the door, you heard the most intimate of groans. The cowboy had long since given you a key—told you to keep it in case you needed him—but, in this case, it was probably wisdom to knock.

As soon as you did, you heard both men curse and some scrambling sounds. Both of them came to the door, cheeks flushed and eyes wide and just enough disheveled that you knew exactly what they had been doing.

They let you in with a flurry of embarrassed squeaks and slamming the door swiftly behind you. You plopped on the carpet and began pulling things out. Eager hands grabbed muffins and the drinks and it was only about ten minutes before everything was gone. In uncharacteristic haste, Hanzo wolfed down his muffin and tea even faster than Jesse going through his coffee and pastry. You ate the fruit with wide eyes, watching them cuddle with such peace and contentment that it warmed your heart.

They followed you to the appointment by three-way mutual agreement. No one said anything as the three of you went through the hallway to the huge room. There was a huge monitor on the wall, alongside two smaller monitors. There was a cart with a rather mysterious looking computerized contraption with a bunch of wires and...things. In the middle of the room was an examination bed complete with stirrups.

You were staring at it and it seemed to be growing bigger and bigger the more that you stared at it. The machine seemed to also be getting more nightmarish in its complexity and weirdness. Your mind would not stop looking at it and getting freaked out.

Jesse put a calming hand on your shoulder. “Don’t freak out, darlin’.” He pointed to a corner where there was a rocking chair behind a screen. “We’re right here.”

“Hello, everyone!” chirped Angela as she came in behind you all. You squeaked in surprise, whirling around and almost stumbling into the archer. Hanzo’s arms came up to hold you. She smirked knowingly and gestured towards the room. “Now...we’ll make this as painless as possible and get out of here fast. Sound good?”

Jesse nodded with a friendly smile, but Hanzo seemed thoughtful. He did not let you go, but wrapped his arms around your body. Quietly, he asked, “Is this truly necessary?” He gestured towards the table. “Is this safe for her and the children?”

The Swiss doctor nodded and gave her polished, professional smile. “This is a very safe procedure.” She offered him a smoothly slick folder printed in green and blue with the title “Chorionic Villus Sampling — Safe And Reliable” on it. “There is very little risk—.”

“But it is not risk free,” he surmised solemnly. “There is still a risk of miscarriage, isn’t there?”

The nurse’s smile faltered a bit as he ignored the folder. “Well...of course, there is always a certain risk with this procedure. But we will do everything we can to minimize that risk.” She slid the folder back into her pile of papers. “And this is a protection for her as well—so that she and her children are legally protected for any eventuality.”

He snorted irritably and hissed, “They have both mine and McCree’s protection—.”

“Which is not legally binding,” the doctor smirked. She shrugged. “Of course, we do not have to do this—if you want to leave her unprotected, that is.”

Hanzo growled and Jesse let out a low threatening sound of his own.

“Very well,” Angel nodded with that smirk that said she knew she had scored a point. “So do we do this or not?” You nodded. “Very well. If you are sure, then we will start with having you go behind the screen and get changed. There’s a robe back there and a sheet to drape over your lap. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Knock first,” growled Hanzo.

“Sure thing,” she grinned in amusement.

You did as instructed, going behind the screen and stripping down. The cotton robe was covered with cartoon dogs and huge on you. The sheet was well scrubbed—almost comfortable—as you waddled out with it gathered around your waist.

Jesse stifled a giggle as you went to the table. He patted it gently, saying, “At least it’s heated.” He lifted you up and settled you on it. “The ones for the guys are always freezing.” He smirked. “So, I guess we wait for the doc?”

Just a second later, you heard a knock. Hanzo grunted and opened the door to let her in. She came in briskly, her hands wet as she began flipping switches and turning everything on. The big monitor came on with strange read outs as things began starting up. She went to another corner and washed up again.

Hanzo went to stand beside you, taking your hand as she gently put you in the stirrups and laid you back. He stared at the doctor as she gently began settling the first probe along your stomach. She took out a second probe that looked like a wand.

“Now, first of all, we’ll do a sonogram.” She smiled at you, glancing at the archer as he loomed over you. “The sonogram will tell us how many pups there are and give us an idea of what we have to work with. It’s too early for us to tell much more than they are alive.” She shrugged a little. “In a few months, we can do the whole gender-reveal, but for now, we’re here for other purposes.”

“Can this wait?” The archer frowned. “Until they are bigger. Better—.”

Dr. Ziegler shook her head. “Then there’s even less room.” She put a squirt of clear gel on the wand. “And a greater chance for error.”

The cowboy spoke up. “Just...show them to us first, right, Doc?”

Hanzo looked at you thoughtfully, unconsciously drawing all of the attention to him. He seemed to be reflecting on some unknown thing that was solemn and important. “I will accept that.” He nodded to Angela. “Show them to us first.” He gently stroked your forehead before giving her a murderously cold look. “Do not cut without showing them all to us first.”

Angela’s lips pursed and she nodded slowly as the cowboy and you grimly nodded your agreement. “Of course.”

She tapped keys and did whatever she did to get the machines running. You grunted as she slid the wand inside you and began turning it and twisting it. She kept a running commentary of silly talk—jokes and riddles and comments about the fish in the tank in the waiting room and questions about television shows and movies you had seen—to try to relax you. It failed utterly, but you appreciated the effort as the wand twisted again.

You looked at the huge monitor. It was bigger than Jesse’s television and showed a huge sepia-toned cone. Jesse made a racket as he pulled the rocker around to face the screen. You did finally laugh at that, distracted from the tray of tools that the doctor had beside the computer. He murmured a rather strained apology to the impatient doctor, making a smile cross even the archer’s face.

Mercy gave the wand another twitch and suddenly a new shape appeared. Jesse stood straight up, almost knocking the rocking chair over as a white blob of a definite baby appeared. “My God,” he said. “Do ya see that? It’s a...a baby.” The child wiggled, turning upside down and appearing to kick. “Aww...hell. That’s gotta be mine, don’t ya think?”

Mercy did something, clicking keys and zooming out. When the image cleared, there was nothing except for two arms—at least, you thought they were arms—from opposite sides of the screen. She twisted it again, clicking furiously. At last, you could see the three blob shapes floating there.

Hanzo let out a soft curse. His whole body shook as he suddenly straightened, riveted to the oversized screen. He pointed at two of them. “Those two. They are mine.”

Jesse grinned uncertainly at him, nodding, but the doctor was unconvinced. “You can hardly know that.” She gestured. “The purpose of the test is—.”

“No.” He patted your joined hands, pride glittering in his eyes. “You did well.” He glanced at the screen. “You make me proud.” He squeezed your hand and then beckoned Jesse over. The cowboy sauntered over and took his place beside you and took your hand. Almost floating, the archer went over to stand directly in front of the screen. He reached up, almost touching one of the lower ones and then the one higher up. “These two are mine.

“Can you not see it?” He glanced over at you with a smile on his face. “Oh...of course. Of course you cannot see it.” He turned towards the screen with his arms stretched wide and almost touching both of the babies. “You cannot see what I see.”

“What is it, Hanny?” Jesse whispered.

He sighed in pleasure—a cross between a tiger’s purr and the soft whisper of a fluffy pillow as one puts their weary head down on it. His arms were still stretched wide, his fingers glossing over the screen. “They are mine. I know it for a fact.”

“How?”

“They have the aura of dragons,” the archer smiled.

Everyone was silent for a moment, watching the rare moment of pleasure radiating from the man. Every single muscle was loose and his face was lit up as he watched the blobs floating on the screen. His obvious happiness filled the room as he kept watching the screen and murmuring soft words in Japanese.

“Ahh...,” Angela interrupted. “We still need to do the test.”

Jesse chuckled dryly, giving you a look that said “watch for fireworks”. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, Doc.”

“Well...,” she said, looking at her monitor and the chart next to the computer. “We really should—.”

Hanzo whirled around, every muscle tense and suddenly scowling fiercely. He stalked back to stand over you. One large hand gently patted your belly, his face fierce and glowering. “No.” His whole form transformed to an aggressive crouch. “I forbid it.”

“But...the paternity test—.”

“I. Forbid. It.” Impatiently, he began tugging the robe back over you and shoving aside the various pieces. “Come, koneko. We are done here.”

Angela shot to her feet. “Now see here—!”

Jesse chuckled as the other man continued to get you unconnected. He was unimpressed with the doctor’s outburst, ignoring her completely. “I think that we’re overruled, Doc,” he smirked smug. He held up his hands with a huge smile. “So what happens next?”

“I finish my tests, that’s what happens next, McCree!”

Hanzo glowered at her. “We are leaving.” He smiled at you. “I am very proud of you, koneko. Two children—two dragons.” He pulled you up to a sitting position. “I could not be happier.”

The cowboy went to the doctor with a disarming smile on his face. “We’re fine, Doc.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned as the archer began to wrap the sheet around your legs. “And there’s no problem doin’ it after th’ fact, right?” The doctor grimaced, scowling, but nodded. “Han’s got a way of doin’ things, knowin’ things, and I, for one, believe him.”

Doctor Ziegler glared at you. “Please.... What do you want to do?” She growled at them and finally told you, “As the patient, it is your call.”

You took one look at the archer’s scowl and shivered. His dark eyes caught yours and he said, “We do not need to do this. I am already sure of the children—as I am sure of you. Do not put them at risk—.”

“There is very little risk, Mr. Shimada,” Angela sighed wearily.

“—and we do not need to risk them for nothing.”

You looked at him, felt his certainty, and immediately felt better. He was absolutely calm, absolutely sure. He helped you off the table, waving aside the doctor without a second thought, wrapping you carefully. Without hardly a ripple in his calm, he led you to the screen.

“Get dressed, koneko,” he whispered with a smile. “We will celebrate.”

He waited, leaning on the screen with his arms over his chest. You got dressed, listening to the doctor argue futilely with the big alpha man. Finally you got to your socks and shoes and came out. Hanzo wrapped his arm carefully around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Good day, Doctor,” the archer sniffed as he led you out of the room. “Jesse—make the next appointment.”

“Uhh...don’t we kinda need her for that?”

Without stopping, he led you to the waiting room, sitting you in a comfortable chair in front of the fish tank. He picked up one of the parenting magazines and handed it to you, while picking up one of them himself. Quite calmly, he began turning the pages until he found an article on pregnancy and exercise.

A red faced Jesse stomped out with a tiny white card. He handed it to you, muttering about not knowing your schedule. Hanzo helped you to your feet, nonplussed as everyone stared at you three. Without missing a beat, he led you out and to Jesse’s apartment.

You were abruptly made of glass—carefully coddled, wrapped in soft cloth and settled on the couch with a tall glass of lemonade and the universal remote. Hanzo tip-toed around you—literally—as he brought you soft socks and began massaging your hands. Jesse looked at you both with wide eyes and backed into the kitchen.

Your dinner was the most perfectly grilled steak, steamed asparagus, baked potatoes, sweet yeast rolls, a fresh wedge salad with homemade dressing and fresh-squeezed orange juice spritzer. You no more thought about getting something than one or the other handed it to you. It was almost overwhelming to have both of them paying such attention to you, but it flattered you, too.

You were smirking down at the fresh fruit and cheese when you noticed Hanzo staring at nothing. “What’s wrong?” He glanced up at you, abashed and shy. “You’re suddenly too thoughtful.”

“I am thinking about the two children—my children.” He glanced down and speared a cube of melon. “I do not want there to be any doubt that I claim those children.”

“What did you see?”

The archer smiled. “I saw...dragons. I saw them around the children—their aura surrounding them. They appear to those who are bound to dragons.” He shrugged. “I can see Genji’s just as he can see mine. We will both be able to see them.” He breathed a sigh of relief and grinned up at the two of you. “And they will both be safe.”

“Well, I got a little tyke comin’, too,” Jesse mumbled.

“Of course, we are celebrating your child too.” He smiled smugly. “But you, my alpha friend, do not understand how...truly grateful I am.

“I never thought I would...ever have children of my own. Truly my own.” He shrugged shyly. “All of my life, I thought that all of my...children would be claimed by an alpha. I thought that I had no choice but to submit to any alpha who would claim me. That even my children would be claimed by them and I would not have anything.

“As an alpha, I do not expect you to understand, Jesse, but it is important to me as an omega. It is...a blessing from paradise that these are mine. We would never have had children together, Jesse. We would have lived out our lives without children. Without the joy of family. Without the joy of children.

“These children...are mine. They will never be frightened of being alpha or omega or beta, because I will never make them ashamed of who they are. They will be safe—far safer than any place I was raised. They will never be left alone on an estate while the family goes to massacre another clan—.”

“Oh, Hanny-bear.”

“They will never be left...locked up because their sister or brother is an alpha. Their family—,” he offered his hands to both of you, “—will never shame them—humiliate them—for having a heat. There will be people who love them, who care about them and who will never see them as a...a mere pawn. They will not be sold or traded for favors or power.”

Hanzo shook slightly, gripping you both. “I...I have never had that. I never knew an alpa could be kind or thoughtful or soft. I never knew that...family could value me as an omega. I never knew that I had a purpose of being more than...a stud for an alpha, like a stallion horse or a pedigreed dog. I never knew that I would have children that would call me ‘father’ or who would value me. I never knew that I would have value as more than killing machine to take down targets.

“I cherish these children already—even the gangly one of yours Jesse. I cherish them all. I cherish them. I already know that I will kill for them. I already know that I will do anything—rob or cheat or steal—so that they will be safe and well. I already know that I will kill anyone and anything that stands between me and them. I know that I love them already—so much that I am almost scared to know that I will love them more when they are born.”

Jesse nodded slowly. “I love all of them, too. My kid is there with them, keeping them company. My kid is there and I love him or her and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. I love yers too, Hanny-bear, because I love ya. It don’t matter if yer an alpha or an omega or something else. I love ya and all the kids.”

The cowboy gripped your hand tightly. “And yer not left out of this. Yer an extra special gift. Yer the surprise in our party. None of this could happen without ya.” He nodded slowly. “I thought that I left my family. I thought that when I ran out, when I left town after my pa died—that was it, that I’d never have a real family again.

“I figured Overwatch was the closest thing I’d ever get to a family home again. I figured that I’d never get the white picket fence and the kids and the family dinners. It was going to be just endless rounds of missions and maybe I’d get lucky and be able to go quickly if not quietly.

“But now I got the one in a million chance to get it all—all the stuff and family dinners and the toys for Christmas. I thought that I’d gotten lucky ‘cause I had ya Hanny-bee. I thought I won the lottery then. I had an omega who kicks ass and takes names, who ain’t afraid of nothin’, who’s got an eagle eye that can cap a flea at a thousand paces. My omega came through hell, who is strong and is sex on legs and still can kick my ass. My omega is a man’s man who doesn’t take any shit off of no one.

“So how did a pissant like me get so lucky that I now have kids comin’? I ended up with another omega coming in like an angel. How does lightning keep strikin’ me? How did I get the jackpot not once but twice?” The cowboy looked up with an anxious face. “And I’ve never been so scared that I’m gonna wake up and everything’s been a dream. Or that yer both gonna up and leave and take the kids. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure that I haven’t done anything that I should be this lucky.”

You nodded slowly, holding on to them. “I’m scared, too. Not only is all this stuff happening—my ankles are swelling and I’m sick half the time—but I’m with the two of you. You both are...a thing. You’ve been together since God was a baby. I’m scared I’m in the way. That the kids are the only thing keeping you here.”

For the second time, you all ended up in a pile in the middle of the floor. Talking about your fears made them seem smaller. To your surprise, Jesse was scared of you and the archer leaving as much as you were scared of being pushed out. And spiders—he was afraid of spiders. The archer worried endlessly about not being strong enough to protect the children, that you would be afraid of him holding them. You had so many little fears that the big omega and the even bigger alpha wanted to soothe.

The weeks of the pregnancy went quickly. Jesse was a good alpha who went out of his way to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you at any hour of the day or night. He would go out at midnight to get you pickles or at dawn for ice cream or at dinner for an omelet and potato chips. He rubbed your feet and brought you pairs of his warm socks that were big enough to go over your swollen ankles.

The fearsome archer was not outdone. He cooked for you—elegant dishes that were more delicious for their simplicity. While he was not as forward as the cowboy, he was always close. He was apparently able to find out anything—presenting you with lists of choices and alternatives on day cares, birth choices, plans, doctors and nurses. It was dizzying being given whole pages of information and then having the big archer explain the choices without embarrassment. He was a wizard with information, able to break down the most complex things into easy to understand chunks that made sense together like a puzzle makes sense when all the pieces are put together. He remembered every appointment, although since three of them were made while he was away on missions it was not entirely clear how he knew about them.

They were a peculiar combination of tastes and talents. Hanzo made the most amazing pickled vegetables. Jesse made pico de gallo and guacamole. Hanzo gave you nori chips and wasabi and pickled ginger. Jesse gave you corn chips and salsa and gingerbread cookies. Jesse’s entire wardrobe was comfortable cotton and flannel. Hanzo had cotton, but also had silk and satin. Jesse made potatoes in a hundred different ways and Hanzo’s rice was always fluffy and delicious. One offered sweet and the other offered sour. One offered soft and the other offered firm.

They also had their own unique quirks. Jesse was obsessive about locking windows and doors—despite the archer’s inhuman ability to get around them. Hanzo was obsessive about food and nutrition. Jesse watched football and whatever televised rodeos or horse races were on. Hanzo preferred political debates. Jesse got massive headaches and wanted snacks as he gradually go away from smoking. Hanzo gave up drinking and instead began looking for non-alcoholic recipes and began creating infusions for teas and waters. They both occasionally had nightmares of violence and death and dark deeds that they only hinted at while you held them. Jesse showed you endless variations of poker. Hanzo taught you how to play go. They held you, fetching you treats and doing what they could.

Hanzo kept his apartment for a few months, despite Jesse’s and your repeated entreaties. He kept murmuring that you and Jesse needed space. It seemed ridiculous that you three needed three apartments, though. He would only shrug that you needed space and privacy. Finally he disappeared for three days—not on a mission, because Jesse would have told you—but he reappeared on the evening of the fourth day with a pack of papers.

You were sitting with Jesse as you munched popcorn sprinkled with salt and pepper and chili powder. He was teaching you the Texas Hold ‘Em at his dining room table. He had a pile of chips he had bought or stolen or collected from saloons all over the world in a confusing mix of designs and patterns. He had a cola and had poured you a mix of ginger ale and orange juice which sounded nasty but tasted amazing.

Jesse turned over his cards and grinned lamely. “Looks like you called my bluff, darlin’. All I got is a pair.”

You smiled at him and held up your cards, just in time to hear a key in the lock. Hanzo came in quietly, smiling at you both as he pulled off his shoes. It seemed strange that he was in such dark, fitted clothing that late in the evening.

“Howdy there,” Jesse called. “What’s up, Hanny?”

He switched from looking very pleased with himself to looking anxious. Setting the shoes down precisely, he sauntered to the table. Pulling out a thick stack of folded papers, he set them down in the middle of the table between you. He pointed to an address on it.

“This is our new home. It has five bedrooms and three and a half bathrooms. There is a kitchen, den, living room, and basement. The lot is 2.83 acres and has a small shed. And a full basement.” He flipped a few pages and you saw pictures of the house and the rooms and the lot. It was a gray and white Colonial style house and black shutters. He pulled out a stack of photos showing the house from every angle and all of the rooms. “The kitchen needs some work—mostly the appliances are old and the kitchen sink needs replacing. The floors are wood but are scratched up.”

Jesse chuckled as he picked up a picture of the driveway and saw a beat up pickup truck in it. “It looks good, Hanny-bear. But...?”

“It is ours,” Hanzo said smugly. “We are in the county, so we are not as close to the city as we might be. There is a nearby grocery store, a small mall. We are only about a half-hour from base and are in a decent district for schools.”

Jesse gaped. “Uhh..ya thought of everything.”

The archer nodded and then looked at you. “The schools are good, but the local hospital has just been renovated. The maternity wing is completely redone.” His eyes turned anxious and he pushed the papers a little closer to you. “The nurses and doctors are highly trained and I have investigated their head of the department has a clean record, a good reputation and is board certified. There is a private school as well that is a possibility....”

He swallowed heavily, his hands twitching at your silence. Shaking his head slightly, he continued, “There is land. The old owner had a flower garden and...and a vegetable garden. There is a good spot between some trees that we can put swings and a few toys. The school bus stop is at the end of the block. There is a mothers’ group in the coffee shop....

“Could you say something, hime? Anything? I tried to think of everything you would want. I looked up the owner and he was willing to sell quickly because he needed to move with his family.” He brought out some more photos, shuffling though them. “I would do....anything. I thought that it would give us space...room for our family. I thought that we needed to get some space for us. A house...could be a home. A home for all of us where we could have swords and dragons and cactuses and plants and horses and all of us. We could have piñatas and birthdays and New Year’s and Christmas and....”

His hand shook as he pushed the papers around, his face suddenly sad. Finally he nodded. “It is fine, hime. You do not—. I wanted to...surprise you. I wanted to make you as happy as you made me and to make sure that....”

You gently put your hands on his. “It’s beautiful. And there’s room for everyone.”

“The children will have their own rooms,” he added softly, finally giving you a soft smile. “One for each of them. It’s barren now—the rooms were mostly empty, but we can paint them. We can hang up pictures. We can decorate them any way they want. You...like it?”

You nodded. All at once, you could picture having big red pots of flowers and plants all beside the doors. There was a nice nook in the kitchen to put the cactuses and you could see the wide place between the trees for the swings and slide and a sandbox out of the kitchen window. There was a big window to put the Christmas tree in. It was practically a given that you’d have a cat and maybe in a few years getting a floppy eared puppy.

“You can....”

You looked at the photos again. You couldn’t help it, but you began picturing things. Your favorite picture on the wall. Jesse’s serape on the couch. Hanzo’s bow on the wall. The little niche for everyone’s shoes. Your upholstered chair in the corner. The silly plastic cactus on the shelf.

“It’s...it’s perfect.” You smiled up at him. “You thought of everything.”

He flushed and smiled. “I tried.” He shrugged bashfully again. “Actually...it wasn’t as hard as I thought—choosing a house. I simply thought of what we all said we wanted and there it was.”


	16. Chapter 16

The next weekend, the three of you were at the lawyer’s office to sign the mountain of paperwork. Hanzo insisted your name be on everything first and foremost. It was tiring in a strange way—to see all of the papers and to sign here and initial there—and a few hours later, to take the three folders (one for each of you) to the coffee shop nearby.

Hanzo took you to the house after that. As you drove through town, you saw—really saw—all kinds of things to make your heart warm. There was a sign for a mother’s group, but also a charming craft store with a quilt in one window and a display of painted glass in the other. There was a baby store and a separate toy store. There was a sprawling park and signs for a horseback riding trail. A school bus wandered through town and there was a pet store with animals in the window. There was even an old furniture store that claimed to have been in business since 2029. There was a thriving police station and a fire house a few blocks down. Most importantly, you saw several Overwatch families walking the streets.

The vehicle trundled into the driveway. It was a quiet place in a cul-de-sac that instantly felt welcoming. As the archer fished out his keys with mumbled promises to get the all copied, Jesse helped you out and began to lead you to the front door. But there, on the walkway, you stopped.

On the tiny porch was a well-loved rocker. You went to it reverently and stroked the heavy wood. It was as perfect as the house and sturdy and reminded you inexplicably of the smell of baking cookies.

“The previous owners could not take it,” Hanzo said softly.

“Well, it’s a right nice touch,” Jesse agreed.

The archer smirked, but didn’t seem to acknowledge the alpha’s word more than that. He sat down in it, rocking back slightly and turning red. “I was not sure, completely, about this place. I wondered if it was too much.” He rocked again and the chair squeaked. “But I sat here—right here—and realized that if I was still a child, I would want to be rocked here. I would want this yard with all its lumps and weeds and rocks that I could really play in instead of endless, ancient and perfect gardens that had been in their timeless patterns for centuries and could not be disturbed. I thought that I even would want that tree over there to climb in. And It is peaceful here in a way that invites play and harmony.

“Hanamura was peaceful and tranquil only because of endless guards and bloodshed. You could not walk without tripping over weapons. You practically could not walk anywhere at all except on narrow paths. If you stepped off the path, the gardeners and guards would drag you back so you didn’t mess them up. For all of the careful plotting and planning to maintain the appearance of perfection, it was cold and impersonal because nothing could be touched or changed. It was like looking at a tree that has died upright—everything in its place and every needle in place, but unable to change or grow.

“This place is still green. It is imperfectly glorious and has history that lives but also a future that twists and changes like a tree whose leaves are the same but slightly different every year. There is an invitation to live here and if there is a hole in the lawn one year or a few places that get scuffed, it is nothing that is disgraceful. There are not parades of people trying to wipe out every trace that people are living here and have imperfect lives.”

Both of you stared at him as he leaned back, the chair creaking again. For that moment, you all saw what he saw and you could feel the first tentative roots push down into the floors and into the land beneath.

Moving day came up fast and neither man let you do more than talk or lift plates to the cabinets. They were like two grannies with one cat—constantly pressing you to rest, to drink something, to have a snack. They seemed to always have an eye on you, so even when you tried to lift, say, the coffee maker, they were there to “assist” you. And if they happened to coo at your belly, then there was no harm in that, was there?

Most of Overwatch seemed to turn out to help, though. The crusader and the cowboy drug in the loads of furniture. Zarya hauled in box after box while trading humorous jokes. Lucio brought out the most immense sound system, playing music and sweating to get the heavier rugs and pictures in place. Ana cornered you in the kitchen and you both began unpacking the dishes and forks errata into the cabinets and set the plants into windows. 76 was a pack mule, dragging around boxes and hanging things and whatever he could before he brought out a huge grill and lighting it up.

As the last box was settled in the house, it seemed that everyone had received the signal. Dish after dish appeared from coolers and out of cars. Cookies and salad and bags of chips and dips and plates of food. Apparently the old soldier had loaded up his entire sedan with coolers and ice packs and drinks in some arcane way that kept them all cold and crisp. Every flat surface was covered with a motley assortment of dishes full of food.

Hanzo couldn’t stop grinning as he squeezed around his hallways with a plate of food. Everyone was talking and laughing balancing their plates and plastic cups precariously. The cowboy had plugged in his television even if he hadn’t gotten it hung up yet, and a crowd was watching a noisy game. Betas wandered around, settling into groups to talk and eat.

He found you with a group outside, sitting on a collection of blankets to enjoy the evening air as you nibbled last treats. He was surprised to see Lucio and Lena sitting with your group, chatting easily about heats, pregnancy, children and the like. Sitting on the darker outskirts of the group behind you, he began picking at the excellent hummus and chips and a second scoop of chocolate pudding cake with gummy worms all over the top.

Lucio grinned shyly, nodding at him before continuing. “—heats can be a real problem on base. I got hit once and ended up crumpling right in the conference room.”

Lena giggled, waggling her bottle of Guinness. “The conference room is a given with all the meetings, luv. I got ‘it on the flight deck just before takeoff.”

Everyone laughed and the archer swallowed heavily. A few of the people here—talking so blandly about heats and suppressants and such—he had simply assumed were not omegas like him. How strange....

The dark skin man grinned even more, taking a sip of his own drink. “So what now, huh? Alpha gonna take ya away?”

You shook your head shyly. “Hardly. Right now, I’m planning on working up until month 8. Then taking some time to recover and stay with the children.” You gave him a mysterious grin. “And the house needs some work, too.”

“Don’t worry, luv,” Tracer warbled. “Em’s a good alpha. She’s already cleared me ta ‘elp a bit if ya need it.” She took a sip. “So I can do some fetching and carrying for ya.” You nodded your thanks. “All been a bit sudden, ‘asn’t it?”

You shrugged with a blush. “I guess...but if it’s right, it’s right.”

The other omegas laughed and began chatting again. Gradually, the archer got more comfortable with the group. A few more men settled in and it soothed him that he was not the only omega man. It was also reassuring to hear the group talk about omega things—handling heats and side effects of suppressants and how to stay healthy and pleasing an alpha—that had mystified the big alpha. Just silently listening to the other omega males—healthy and vital and clever males—was profoundly satisfying on an elemental level.

Around an hour later, people began packing up to leave. The fridge was full of leftovers and people were swearing that they couldn’t eat another bite. Paper plates and plastic cups were stuffed into garbage bags. You were all exhausted, too, as you tossed the last bags in the big can at the curb.

The cowboy grinned as you stuck a sonogram picture to the fridge with a “Welcome to Dorado” tourist magnet. “Darlin’, have you seen Hanny?”

You shook your head. “Not since Lena and Emily left.”

You found him on the front stoop, sitting in the rocking chair and staring at the darkness. He glanced at you both with a lazy grin, a zippered pouch on his lap. In fact, it was the leather, zippered pouch. You stared at it and then looked at him with questions in your eyes.

He stood and tossed the bag between his hands. “Did you know? About Lena and Lucio?” Jesse and you looked at him in confusion. “I...did not know that they were omegas.”

“Darlin’, We don’t quite get the joke.”

He stared at the bag. “For years, I thought I was the only male omega. That I was defective—an aberration of a cruel nature. A freak. I thought that I needed to—.” He stopped and took in a deep breath. “My father was so ashamed that I felt polluted by it. And I began the...using the sticks and knife on my skin then because I couldn’t help it when my heat started. I couldn’t bear my shame.

“But there are others. Others like me. Do you see it? I am not worthless.” His eyes glistened with tears and smiles. “I am not worthless or useless or a failure. I can be successful and an omega too.”

“Never thought any of that,” Jesse drawled as you all came in. “Always knew you were amazin’.”

Hanzo nodded, tossing the bag aside carelessly. “It is like a weight is off my shoulders.” He dropped an arm over your shoulders. “And my children will know of my happiness.” He smiled and nodded at you. “They will not be so ashamed....”

“Never,” you answered firmly.

“I did not have to be ashamed,” he whispered. “I did not have to be.... I did not have to be. And this,” he smirked, holding up the bag, “Is no longer necessary, is it?”

Again you all huddled together in the middle of the floor. Hanzo talked on and on—a lot about his father, a lot about Japan, more about Genji, and a whole lot more about yakuza than you ever guessed. But the biggest change was in the archer as he laughed and talked. It was like he needed to get it out and the more that came out, the better he was. Jesse talked a lot more too—how he grew up, how he got into street fighting and hustling and then came to Blackwatch. You talked—how you grew up, the things that changed you as a person and made you who you are. Jesse talked about how hard it was to give up the tobacco—how he was afraid to go back to smelling a scent full strength and how smelly his heats made him that the tobacco smoke masked. Hanzo talked about his drinking—drinking to forget more than to remember. You had your skeletons, too—how you had felt as an omega, how the heats made you feel and your fears about alphas. It was not easy, but the burdens felt lighter as you shared them with each other. It was all intense, deep down soul searching stuff that kept gluing you together as a family.

And you were finally a family, settling your roots into your house. Your home that was filled with shouting and noise and heat and rut and scents and most of all...love.


End file.
